Butterflies
by IzzySenpaiChan
Summary: Different love stories that all started with butterflies in their stomach. (Original characters included.)
1. Everybody Talks

Silence drifted between me and the new girl. I heard Taylor chattering away in the kitchen over something about lip gloss - with Mom, no doubt. But for me and this chick, no words were exchanged. All that sounded was the fast typing of her slim fingers on a black keyboard on a laptop in her lap.

She wasn't bad looking, if that's why you think I'm not talking to her. She looked extremely conservative and shy. Hell, I couldn't even hear when she had said "hi". Either there was a higher level of socially inactive, or she was just had a speech impediment.

Her dark black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The only thing that made her different than other people was the light blue highlight in her hair. I hadn't really seen her eyes, but they were a pretty shade. Currently, they were masked by thick eyelashes and her strand of blue hair. But small glances allowed me to see the sea blue color.

Me? Well. That can be answered pretty quickly. Lavender hair, for starters. No, it was not dyed. Totally natural. You can blame my grandfather for that. Anyway, I'm partially Saiyan. THAT you can blame on my dad. Half-alien and still going to high school. Now, my name...Trunks Briefs.

And don't get me started on the origins of that name.

The girl across from me? Well. She hadn't introduced herself. My insanely clingy girlfriend had introduced her as her good friend. May...Envo? I couldn't understand what Taylor had said through her chattering - she had had a red stain of lipstick on her teeth. That was enough to tear my attention away from her talking.

Oh...

And she's 4'11".

May gave a very quiet cough. She glanced at me and instantly looked back at her keyboard. I exhaled openly, tapping on the couch. I chewed the inside of my cheek, glancing in the direction of the kitchen. The chattering had long since stopped. Now, though, it was replaced by a loud laugh - giggle - that sounded as if it were practiced many a day in front of a mirror.

Then along came the queen majesty, Taylor.

The red lipstick stain was gone. She wore a cut-out pink sweater cut off at mid-stomach with a skinny jeans and red heels that were at least four inches. Her outfit wasn't for the weather - it was fall, and nearing winter. Any guy could tell she was dressed to show skin.

"Trunksss! Your mom is sooo cool!" She beamed, her cherry red-painted lips pulling a wide grin to make beauty queens jealous. "She's really pretty!" Her mood instantly shifted as she sat down next to me. "Though she seems a little nutty. Kinda like what an inventor should be." She jutted out her bottom lip with a judgmental look towards the kitchen. Her smile flipped back on. "But everyone has their flaws, right, May?"

May's eyes darted up quickly. Her lips moved, but all I heard an insanely quiet whisper. Taylor just kinda stared at her for a few seconds before laughing. "Right!"

I held my gaze at May while Taylor chattered on - something about seashells? - seeing she had the completely closed off body posture of any shy girl. Though hers seemed much more closed. Her arms were glued to her sides, her legs locked together and her eyes never leaving the screen of her computer unless she was spoken to. She didn't speak above a whisper, and her hair covered her eyes. If that isn't enough evidence to show a shy girl, then I don't know what is.

Still, despite her isolated posture, she looked like a nice person. She seemed like someone to talk to. Normally, I would instantly start talking, despite the uncomfortable air a person would give, but for her, it seemed like a bad thing to speak to her. Other shy girls I've met usually open up in a snap - you can tell they will when they have slightly more open posture. But May...she didn't want to speak at all. She didn't like talking. She wouldn't open up if I started speaking - and putting her on the spot wouldn't help. I kept my mouth closed.

"...and she's a bitch. All she wants is attention. She always wears black clothes and her hair is all layered and shit. But all she wants are guys to sleep with her and tell her all that fake romance bullshit in movies. And she's all like, "oh, I'm depressed and I cut myself"!"

May gave a direct look at Taylor, though she didn't notice. She darted back to her laptop before she did.

"You know what I mean?"

"Um...yeah, sure..." Of course, I didn't. I could be a jokester - a pretty crude one - I didn't really bring jokes upon depressed people who cut themselves. Reason being that people COULD be doing it for attention or they are actually in trouble.

Taylor looked at her phone, reaching into her purse next to her for lip gloss. "Hmmm...ugh, I hate her..." She looked to me. She smiled. "Of course, she has her good qualities." It looked forced.

"Why?" I inquired. "Who is it?"

"Oh, just some dumb whore named Timora. I just keep my mouth shut because she can fight." She started tapping on the screen and applying her lip gloss.

Taylor looked insanely different than May. It was hard to believe they were friends. Taylor had her revealing outfit while May had a hoodie a few sizes too big for her and skinny blue jeans - not as tight as Taylor's, mind you - and fuzzy black Uggs. I wonder if she just brought her along to make her look better. So far, if that was the case, it wasn't working.

"Hmm, May, do you like anyone?" Taylor prompted. The dark-haired teen looked up and shook her head, looking down again. Taylor sighed, smiling to me. "Oh, well. I have you, so I don't have to worry about liking other guys."

I smiled at her and nodded.

Okay, let me set one thing straight:

I'm not completely into Taylor. I always felt on edge around her, like I was obligated to look good and be nice or something. She was more easy to set off than my mom - and that's an achievement. But I didn't like that uneasy feeling, hence my lack of speech.

Around an hour later, they both left, May not looking back at me and Taylor chatting away on her phone.

...

It was winter now. Definitely. Snow was falling in the chilly month of November. Still, I was out with Goten and his newly acquired girlfriend, Jennette, at the local Starbucks. She wasn't a bad person - she was a huge animal lover who had an attitude. Equipped with naturally curly brown hair and hazel eyes, I could see why Goten would fall for her.

I sipped at my cappuccino. It was insanely bitter, but I was too lazy to stand up and get sugar or cream. I took another drink.

"So, mi amigos, what shall we talk about?" No, Jennette is not Hispanic. She is Australian, Italian, and French. She used to have a heavy Australian accent but, miraculously, from living so many years in Japan, she learned to speak "normally".

"Maybe how awesome it is to have a girlfriend," Goten opted. Jennette laughed.

"Ha ha, Mr. I-Don't-Really-Like-Meh-Girlfriend would love to join in that conversation."

"No, not really," I replied with a grimace. "Idiots."

"I'm not an idiot! Right, Jenny-Chan?" Goten looked to the Aussie.

"Hmm. Well..."

"Jennette!"

She cracked a big smile. "Yes, you can be." Goten pouted, though he couldn't hold it for long when Jennette ruffled his hair. Then it came back when she went for his bangs. They were already the friendly type of couple. I could tell they would be lasting awhile.

I glanced across the café, seeing teens our age and older adults alike. One person caught my eye: May.

She was at an empty small table with her laptop in her lap. She was taking small bites of her chocolate cake pop and drinking something warm.

"She's cute." I looked next to me at Goten who was following my gaze. I glared at him.

"Sure. But I'm not into her. She's Taylor's friend."

Goten made a gagging imitation. "Taylor is a serious man-eater. She was sucking some other dude's face the other day-"

"Goten." I gave a sharp glare at him. I looked back to May. She, like the rest of Japan, had a light skin tone, though hers looked almost gray. Maybe because she had an air of sadness...something like it. I watched as she tugged her left sleeve down, checking her watch. Peeking from underneath the watch was the edge of a purple bruise.

I blinked. She was on the other side of the café; it may have looked like a purple ring around her wrist, but it probably wasn't.

She pulled it back down, blowing her blue bang out of her face and looking concentrated on whatever it was on her laptop.

Minutes passed as I studied her, wondering if there were even more marks on her. Minutes passed as Goten and Jennette chatted (Goten, being the prick he was, making remarks about how I was into her) and drank their drinks. Then Jennette's phone went off.

"Oh. My dad's calling. I guess I'm gone." She gave a small smile to Goten and a look at me. "She's a nice girl." She nodded her head in the direction behind me.

"Who?" I asked.

"May Evans? The girl you were looking at for the past half-hour?"

May Evans. It was a nice name. "I was just looking out the window." I would've added a certain name, but I didn't for Goten's sake.

"Do you want me to walk you?" Goten looked hopeful.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Thanks, though." She smiled, pecking him on the cheek. She gave a more serious look at me and then to May. She turned on her heel, clacking in her boots to the snowy blizzard outside. Goten bolted after her, concerned about her going out in the snow. I looked over to May.

Who would walk her home in the snow?

...

"So...do you not like talking?" I choked on icy snow. The blizzard that suddenly hit West City was merciless.

No answer. That or the wind blowing against us drowned her voice out.

"Hope you don't mind me walking you." I gave a glance to her. Her normally pale cheeks were bright red. Her nose was the same shade. I smiled. It reminded me of Rudolph.

I won't lie - she was pretty cute. But I had Taylor.

After a few minutes of walking, she hadn't said a word yet. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't heard her voice at all, aside from very quiet whispers. She looked like the type who'd have a surprisingly pretty voice - maybe she sings? It's probably like animes where the shy girl is the one who can sing. Then again...

I glanced over to her. Her mouth was covered by a fluffy scarf. She had small tear tracks down her cheeks.

She didn't look happy enough to sing.

...

"Um..." I paused, wondering if the question was too personal. "Were you...er...cryi-"

"May!" I froze. It was a strict female voice. Even May jumped.

I stood outside her doorway. A middle-aged mom who had dark hair pulled to the side and dark eyes came bounding out of the house in a large coat. "Who is this?!"

"U-Um..." May stammered. "H...He was j-just bringing...me h-home..." I blinked, though not because of the falling snow.

Her voice was high. It was adorable. I was right - it is like an anime.

I must have been smiling like an idiot because her mother said: "What are you smiling about?! Are you a pedophile?!"

I shook my head. "No. She's just a friend of my girlfriend. I was just worried about how she was getting home-"

"That is none of your business!" She snapped. She turned to her daughter. "May, you know what your father is going to say! Get inside!"

She pulled her inside by her sleeve. She glanced back at me, opening her mouth to say something, but then she closed it.

The door closed.

...

The tear tracks. The purple mark. The gray tone of her skin. Those are all I knew. Something different I noticed while out in the snow was how dark her eyes seemed to be. They looked like a candle who had yet to be lit.

Her pale skin. Her slim fingers hitting the keyboard. How her lips always seemed to be turned down at the edges in a frown. It was all I could think about.

And that was because I was sick.

"Trunks, did your ice pack melt?"

"No, Mom," I called, sighing. I hated how my door was open. And how my mom had to yell something every five seconds.

Silence.

Finally!

I rolled over on my side, shifting the covers to make sure all of me was warm. Then I heard her call again.

"Trunnksss! A friend is at the door!"

How does a woman go from caring over her child endlessly to calling her kid to come greet a friend? I sighed, pulling the blanket up with me and wrapping it around my shoulders. Goten wouldn't care. I've approached him millions of times like this.

I descended down the stairs, coughing into one of the tissues I kept in my pocket. "Goten, I didn't ask you to come see me-"

I froze. I almost tripped the rest of the way down the stairs. There, in front of the door, was May Evans with a confused - disgusted? - expression on her face.

I threw the blanket up the stairs, darting down the stairs and straightened up my back to come across as the picture of health.

"May! Why are you here?!"

Her eyes shifted to the floor. "I...er..." She swallowed. She thrust a wrapped package up to me. "H-Here...you...um...w-walked me h-home...and g-got s-s-s-sick..." She let her head fall to her chest. "S-S-Sorry..."

"Oh..um...thank you..." I took the package, seeing May's cheeks flaring a fiery red.

"Did you get sick?" I tilted my head.

"N-No..."

I glanced to the left side of her neck. A purple mark. Almost the same as the one on her wrist, though darker and newer. I must have been staring for a long time because she flicked her ponytail to cover it.

"I-I'll be g-g-going now..." She stammered. "M-My parents will be...um...u-upset if I d-don't get b-back soon..."

I nodded slowly. "'kay...thanks again."

She gave a furtive nod and turned to the door. Mom looked between me and her, brow raised. Once the door shut, she smiled a wide, evil smile. "You liiikeee herrrr."

"Nope." I glared at her and poked her cheek roughly.

"Ow! Hey! That is NOT how you treat your mother!" I was already halfway up the stairs. "TRUNKS!"

I closed the door and locked it, blasting my music and trying not to puke.

...

"You think she's with somebody?"

I nodded, chewing on some sushi. Damn - the bento box was pretty good. The only thing I didn't want to eat was the octopus in it - I never liked those dishes. Even so, it looked really good.

Most of the food in the bento box were healthy but good. It helped with my being sick. Thank God she gave me two - I had to save the other for when we went back to school after winter break.

"Why do you think so? She seems like a loner to me..." Goten paused, sucking on the tip of his pocky in thought. "Ohh. I see. She's like one of those submissive anime girls, huh...probably all into BDSM-"

"No, no, not like that," I said, smacking the back of his head. "Jeez. Jennette could be like that, you know."

"Jenny-Chan?! No, never! Jenny-Chan's awesome..." He had a pouty look on his face as I rolled my eyes.

"Anyway...I think she's with a guy because..." I hesitated. Is it really my place to talk about those marks I saw?

"Because...?"

"...Nevermind. Didn't you say Jennette was at someone's place for their birthday today?" I glanced at my phone's date, seeing December 7th in white letters.

"Yeah, I wonder who's. She seemed like she was in a hurry, though."

"Must be a best friend."

...

My heart was at a much slower beat. I should feel bad. But I genuinely didn't. Maybe because it was just so cold and my heart was slowed down and I was sleepy? After all, my cold hadn't completely gone away yet.

As I walked away from the moonlit snow and flowers, hands in my pockets and eyes to the crunchy white, I felt everything but negative. Above all, I felt free and relaxed.

Even as she had tears pouring down her face and her lipstick smeared from her failed attempts of seducing her way back into my life, I didn't feel bad. Even as the snow fell and the world stopped for her, my world kept turning and spinning in a way that seemed normal to me.

Even with the stinging red hand mark on my right cheek, ebbing pain in my shin, and thrown snow on my coat, I didn't feel bad. It was like those three elements were kicking me back to sanity. After all, I never really liked her past the looks and head-spinning intimate - not sex, mind you - techniques.

For some reason, only a certain girl invaded my thoughts. Not her looks, not her vague personality, but the marks that marred her skin. This morning she came by to check on my health. She had a very faint mark on her temple. I could see it when she brushed her hair back behind her ear so she could see the laptop screen.

What did she do on that laptop? YouTube? Writing? Maybe even art like Goten.

I shrugged. That wasn't my business. And neither are her marks.

...

Blood marked the floor in intricate patters of macabre design. It was beautiful in a dark, twisted way...the sin of murder with a purpose of a saintly act.

A scream broke the silence. Panting breath. A rapid pulse of a stressed heart.

Slow, painful footsteps.

They were quiet and teasing on that blood-covered floor. They tensed muscles just by the heels of the dark loafers clicking on the tile of the bathroom. The man looked like any other.

But then there was his face. A dark, murderous leer pulled at his otherwise flawless and immaculate face. It was as dark and twisted as the blood paintings on the floor. Everyone knew this man. Everyone loved him.

But no one new this side. No one new this dark version behind closed doors.

Slowly, so slowly, his hands went to the side. The heartbeat was still going in front of him.

"Please, don't do it, I love you-"

"Ah, but my dear, dear woman, I must unfortunately tell you that I have no satisfaction for a woman of your ilk."

His voice was silken and satin. Not the voice anyone would imagine for a killer - but then again, no one wants anyone to be a bloodthirsty murderer. He pulled a razor sharp knife out of his pocket. A female - the same one who had spoken before - gasped.

She screamed, dark blood spilling forth from her chest as he proceeded to tackle and dismember her like a butcher-

"Trunks, I-I really don't like this movie-"

"Come on, Goten, this is the best part." I chewed on a Twizzler, badly wanting to eat popcorn, but braces prohibiting. "Even Jennette's into it."

"That's only because my dad's watched this a million times." She didn't look up from her bright cellphone, popcorn in her mouth.

I rolled my eyes. Instead of watching cheesy Christmas films for the millionth year in a row, horror movies I hadn't yet watched were more up my alley. The movie I was waiting on was It's a Wonderful Life. That was my favorite, and it was the only one I would watch. But that didn't come on until eleven. After all, it was the day before Christmas Eve.

"Oh, May's coming over," Jennette announced.

"M'kay," I said, more interested in the movie. And frankly, I was fine with it.

Twenty minutes later, no one heard the first two knocks at the door, they were so quiet. By the third knock, the movie was over. Goten answered the door, his polite persona kicking in. I only heard him speaking, so either she was just nodding and shaking or she was speaking insanely quiet.

She walked in with just a hoodie and jeans. Her boots were appropriate, but it made me wonder how she made it here in a hoodie. I didn't hear a car door close outside. I didn't hear one leave, either. She had enough snow to prove she was outside for a while. But I could tell she didn't just walk here.

"How did you get here?" I asked.

"She has a motorcycle," Jennette said simply. I nodded.

"Oh, cool. I don't hear anyone ever having a motorcycle in highschool."

"O-Oh..." Her gaze dropped to the floor.

"No, no, not like that," I said quickly, "it's cool you have a motorcycle."

She nodded silently. I sighed inwardly. I sat back down on the couch. "Help yourself. We've got tons of snacks, bro."

"O-Okay...t-th-thank you..."

For a whole hour, that went on: chatting and laughing. Well...for the three of us. May was very quiet.

I turned to her as Goten and Jennette were chatting about animals. May had dark rings under her eyes as if she hadn't slept for a while. She had yet another new mark on her jawline as if something blunt but had an edge grazed her.

I swallowed. I looked at the other fading marks. Most of them looked alright, but they seemed to fade too quick.

Maybe foundation?

But why would they still show so well? A girl couldn't be that bad at putting on foundation.

The image of her tear tracks when walking home flashed behind my eyes. Her blue eyes next to me still looked the same - dark but not dark in color. I hadn't really seen them at this proximity yet...they were a wonderful shade of blue.

"Enjoying yourself?" I asked. She glanced at me, her thick lashes covering her eyes mostly. She nodded.

"You've been so quiet though. You sure?"

"Y-Yes..."

A long silence went past. I stared at her marks. They bothered me. I couldn't have a fact as to where they came from, but they itched me to be protective over her and make sure they didn't keep appearing.

She was too delicate to be marked in that way. As weird as that sounds for a guy who got out of a relationship a couple of weeks ago, it was true. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was almost like a brotherly protective feeling...but then it wasn't.

"May, where do you keep getting marks?"

For the first time, her eyes actually met mine directly. Behind that beautiful blue, I could see the sadder shade. I could almost feel the pain behind them, the sense of being left to the cold. But something felt different about that beautifully sad shade of blue...her eyes still looked like they lacked their shine...like a snuffed out candle.

And then the power shut off.

"May?"

"Hey, what happened?!" I heard Jennette exclaim. I heard my mom from another room and a blast from what I could almost certainly pinpoint as Dad.

And then I heard the door slam and the sound of a motorcycle driving away on a snowy road.

...

Christmas passed in a blur. Soon winter break would be over. I sighed. What had I been doing over the break? Receiving texts from that stupid sex-obsessed Taylor, but other than that, nothing. All Christmas I could only think about those blue, blue eyes and their sad look.

"Hey, jackass, c'mere." The Italian waved me over with a flick of her wrist.

"What do you want?" I murmured. I didn't want to deal with her, even though she was Goten's girlfriend.

She held out a package with a rolled up paper secured with a ribbon stapled onto it. "This is for May. I have a club meeting I gotta get to. Can you go give this to her? It's just a science project for homework."

"Why didn't she get it herself?" I asked, taking the package.

"She wasn't here today." Her voice showed concern. "I guess she got sick."

"But why do I gotta take it? Why not Fluffball?" Fluffball was, of course, Goten.

"Because Tenny-Bear is busy with his art at the moment." It was obvious that that wasn't a fact - she just wanted me to go for whatever purpose. I rolled my eyes, ascending into the air.

I had already forgotten where she lived - it'd been a while since I walked her home. Flying over the vast city full of homes and families, I could only recognize a select number of houses. Luckily, I recognized the house after a few times circling around the clouds.

I landed a few houses down, walking up the sidewalk to her house. I stopped at her door, knocking on the door. I glanced around at the frosty lawn, the covered flowers in pots already wilting. At least it had stopped snowing heavily.

The door opened. It was her mother. She looked nice enough, but from what I remembered of lat time, it was enough for me to break out into a sweat. "Uh...hi, Mrs. Evans..." I said.

"Hi. What do you want?" She didn't look pleased to see me.

"Er...May wasn't at school today, so...she has a project to do for homework."

She paused, looking at me up and down. She sighed. "Fine. So long as you leave before five."

"I wasn't going to stay that long."

"Who knows what that project is about?"

She walked inside, leaving the door open. I walked in after dusting myself of excess snow. "Is she sick?"

"No," she replied calmly.

I paused. I guess she was one of those students who played hooky.

"Where is...her room?"

"Upstairs."

I tapped on the package as I turned on my heel in the direction the stairs were. They were near the living room that I had come in, followed by a kitchen I couldn't really see.

I froze. I forgot to ask which door. I almost turned back, but then I saw a door open by a crack. I approached the door, peeking in and seeing May on the floor of her bedroom, picking up what looked like dark black square pieces. She stood, her right wrist in bandages and a soft cast. Is that why she stayed home?

I gently knocked on the door frame. She turned calmly, her eyes widening when she saw who it was. She dropped the pieces she had in her hand in surprise. "W-W-Why-"

I walked in, trying not to laugh. I set the project on her bed, bending to pick up...keyboard pieces?

"I'm bringing you your project on an Australian's command," I said. "What happened to your wrist?"

"Oh, I-I...um...I...fell..."

"Huh. Nasty fall."

She nodded. She went to her knees to help pick up the pieces, but I stopped her. "Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Bu-"

"Your arm. I got it, Chiquita."

She frowned, but it left. She stood, sitting on her bed. Minutes went by in silence. "So why keyboard pieces?"

"I...d-dropped my laptop..."

I glanced around the room, seeing a completely totaled laptop - the top screen completely torn off and the bottom half in shambles - on her dresser. I looked at her with skepticism. "Dropped it?"

She nodded. She didn't meet my eyes. "Yep...things h-happen when you don't pay a-attention, I guess.."

"Uh-huh..." I set the keyboard by the totaled laptop. She had the previously stapled paper from the project in her hands, reading it over.

Her face drained. "Partner...?"

"Eh?"

"I-I...need a-a p-partner..." She nodded toward the package. "It's...science."

...

"So...the enzyme production rate was high on test tube A?"

"Yep."

"And we know that how...?"

"Based on the enzyme production."

She glared at me. "Please don't be a smartass."

I laughed. "Well, then you're saying not to be me."

"Okay. Then stop being you."

So far, the experiment was going well. Even if I didn't go to their school - a private school for me - I was stuck writing observation notes and helping her out as her lab partner. It was pretty easy, seeing as I've done enzyme labs like this before. But the best part of the experiment was how May slowly stopped stuttering around me and even started having her own personality poke through.

"I think that's it for the lab." She closed her notebook, starting to clean up the mini lab we had set up in the kitchen. "Thank you...for...working with me."

"Meh. It's not like it was my first time doing the enzyme lab."

She gave a ghost of a smile. It felt like someone made my heart jump start fifteen times in the span of one second. I hadn't actually seen her smile yet. And, even if this was a barely noticeable smile, it made being the Australian's courier all worth it.

...

Confession time.

Spring was already waltzing in to take Winter's seat on the weather throne, and I was still hopelessly clueless. Well...

Sorta clueless.

Either I was beginning to become a lead role in a shojo manga or I was seriously in trouble. All the signs were there:

Quick heartbeat.

Admiring.

Thinking of constantly.

Listening to different music.

So far, I don't think I've made a stupider decision than telling the last person I'd want to know: Mom.

Her jaw was opened wide enough to hit the floor in the next universe. "A crush?!"

"Yes..." I mumbled. "But that's it. She doesn't even like me back-"

"Ohh, that's not what a certain French bird has told me!" She smiled like she was gossiping in high school. Of course Jennette would tell her - but I doubt she had anything to say about May crushing on anyone.

Was it normal to have one single smile stuck in your head? You couldn't even call it a smile. But even then, that small upturn of her lips sent me to cloud nine. She hadn't seemed happy at all throughout the course of my knowing her until those weeks ago.

The way her skin had more color, the way her eyes seemed to finally shine, even just for a little bit. Hell, blame it on the light. But her smile left me with a tattoo slapped on my memory.

Small things I hadn't noticed before started filling my senses - how she had the faintest scent of some flower I couldn't recognize, her mannerisms, the way her ponytail was. The way I sound even scares me - I'm turning into a stalker, I swear. I'm getting obsessed over a girl I don't even really know. We don't even go to the same school, who knows if we're the same age?!

"Are you going to ask her out?" The President of Capsule Corporation asked, tilting her head with an amused smile on her face. I knew why. I had gone through girlfriends less than five times, her only two. It took her only two tries to get the hots for someone, and it took me four. Now she had the opportunity to tease me about last names and children.

If she did, I made a vow to pinch her everytime she did it.

"I dunno. Asking her out still seems pretty risky-"

"Again, the girl likes you. There's no point in just ignoring it."

I grimaced. "Okay, Mom, whatever. I have to wait for Goten at the door, anyway. We have to study."

She gave me a look I recognized too well.

"Mom, chill, I'll let things go at their own pace."

"Fine...but I think she's the type who won't make me sanitize my couch." She gave a teasing smile.

"Mom, shut your face." She just shrugged, waving goodbye to me as I left to the door.

...

"Truuunnnksss, I don't get ittt."

"Stop whining, Goten." I jotted down a note on a separate sheet of paper. "Here. Write this down." Goten grinned and took the slip of paper, quickly writing down the answer. "Thanks, Trunks."

"Goten, cheating is a sin." We both looked at Jennette. "You know it's true."

"C'mon, Jennette, you can't have all the answers, either."

"I've been done."

"No way!" I crossed my arms.

"Yes way," she replied simply. "May's been right next to me the whole time. Did I cheat, May?"

"No," she responded, not looking up from her paper. Jennette leaned over to see.

"Doodling again?"

May's cheeks went a light pink. "No..." She mumbled.

"You draw?!" Goten leaned over the table to see.

"Paint..."

"Ohh. Nice!" He grinned. "What are you doodling?" He paused. "It kinda looks like Tr-"

"No, no, no!" She interjected. "I-It's not anyone you know, ha ha..." She balled up the paper, tossing it into a small trash bin.

So far, her stutter was going away. Jennette informed me earlier that she only stopped when she was around her or me, which I found odd. I was glad she was growing comfortable, either way. Too bad I had only seen her smile once, though. You could barely call anything progress when you only see one smile...if you could call that a smile.

Jennette stood, stretching. "I'm gonna make some pizza or something."

"This is my place! Who said you could make pizza?!" I exclaimed.

"Well, my Italian side just can't help it." She smiled broadly before leaving to the opposite direction of the kitchen.

"Wrong way, Aussie!" I called.

"Not my fault you guys have a stupidly big house!" She stomped past, sticking her tongue out at me as she walked past.

I shrugged, returning to the studying. "May, do you need any help?" Goten asked.

She shook her head. "No. Thank you."

He nodded, glancing at me. I glared at him, shoving his shoulder.

"Do you need help, Trunks?"

"No, idiot, I'm totally fine on my own-"

He gave me a look. He tore out a fresh sheet of paper and scrawled something down. "This is how you do it."

He slid the paper towards me. I looked at the paper. It read:

r u gonna ask her out? (o･ω･o)

I glared at him. I smacked him upside the head. "Don't you start, too!" I shouted.

"Whaaat?" He pouted. "I was just asking!"

I hit him again for good measure.

...

"So...er...do you have a way to get home?" I asked.

"I can walk." She shoved her books into her backpack. She looked a lot happier than normal. Her blue eyes looked brighter.

I looked her over. No new marks I could see.

"I could walk you."

She nodded.

"No really, I can- oh wait, you nodded." I started packing up the books I had. I pushed the stack to the side. I could take them up to my room once I got back.

Jennette walked out with a box in her hands. "I saved you some slices of pizza." I nodded. She left out the door, Goten following her with a slice in his mouth - pepperoni from the smell of it.

...

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded.

"You know that last time I walked you? Why were you crying?"

Coincidentally, she had a few tears going down her cheeks. "Oh, it's just me walking in the wind. My eyes always water whenever that happens."

That made perfect sense. I was worrying over nothing. "Oh. Well...what about those marks?"

I was more than certain that she'd stay silent.

"My dad." Her tone was much more serious. "He had a terrible temper. He didn't much care for me. To be really blunt, he was an abusive man."

I fought to keep my fists unclenched. "Er...you're talking as if he's not around anymore."

"He's not. My mom finally got the courage to report him. Now he's in jail." She smiled. "He wasn't a terrible person. I guess it was just his temper. He used to be the sweetest man. But I guess stress or something cracked him. It doesn't matter - I don't hold any negative feelings toward him."

I certainly did. He didn't have to be in front of me to feed my want to punch something. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yep. I have my brother, anyway."

I blanched. "Brother?!"

"Yep. He's really little, though. As long as he and Mom are okay, I don't care."

I felt myself calm down a bit. It didn't effect her that much, and now he was gone - that was all that mattered. Now she had light in her eyes and she wore a smile much more often. That was enough to keep me happy.

Minutes past in the lightly falling snow. It crunched beneath us. Even the sun peeked here and there to shine on the snow. I felt something poke my cheek.

May smiled up at me. "You look so serious."

"How did you-"

"I jumped." I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Hey! It's not that funny!" She punched my arm and kicked my leg, but I continued laughing, really just to annoy her.

"I'll carry you back if you keep this up," I warned.

"Whatever! You're not serious!" She punched me again. I scooped her up, holding her bridal style. "Hey!"

"I warned you," I said simply. "You were asking for it and you know it."

"Idiot! Baka! Jerk! Dummy!" She kept calling my names up until we managed to get to her door. I put her down. I smiled.

"You really changed on the walk to your house."

"Maybe because you made me mad," she said, crossing her arms. She smiled. It was a genuine, full smile. Her blue eyes were the brightest I'd seen. Her black hair had snow in it, her highlight faring the same. Her cheeks and nose were a light pink. I wasn't sure why, but the snow made her look more beautiful than I could've imagined.

The playful mood we had before shifted to something I couldn't describe. It was like time would only move when we said. With the snow around us, I didn't want to move. I felt as if it would ruin this moment.

Before I knew it, I leaned forward. Again, the flowery scent infiltrated my senses, pulling me closer. Without my consent, my hand was already going forward to cheek. She was standing insanely still, but I could feel her rapid pulse under my hand. Her skin was cold and hot at the same time, her cheeks a bright red as if she had a cold.

"I love you." It came out as a whisper, one quieter than I would've liked. But she seemed to have heard me, as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine. Something in my chest flared up and the butterflies in my stomach left.

It felt like only seconds our lips were together. What broke it was Mom.

"Cue Sim victory music!" Her voice sounded nasally and choked up. Her movement followed by the rustle of the leaves. She was in a freaking bush.

I threw a rock at her.


	2. Angel Without Wings

I crossed my arms onto the table top. I sighed. If there was a tornado at the moment, right on top of me, one could say I wouldn't even notice - and I agree. In a way, there was already a tornado on top of me, in my head. And damn, did it mess with me.

The first feeling was absolute guilt. I knew I shouldn't have done what I did, and I knew it wasn't part of protocol. Even Alker was extremely upset - she threatened to fire me. But I didn't much care if I got fired. I would gladly accept the pink slip. If I could get rid of the guilt that weighed like a rock on my shoulders, then fan-freaking-tastic.

The second feeling was loss. Throughout the whole mess, I didn't give much consideration to the fact that I still kind of had feelings. It was the stupidest thing for a man to say, but I wanted to cry over it. I still, even now, had a certain degree of feeling for her. I had already accepted the fact that what I did wasn't going to change it - and that was what made it a loss.

"Are you going to be depressed over this forever?" The third feeling...well, he was sitting right across from me, his fingers laced together and watching me with pessimistic qualities. "Get yourself together. Blue is definitely not your color."

"It's not like I wanted it to be blue..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing..." I murmured against the table. I lifted my head. "Come on, Augustine, you should already know how effed up my emotions are right now. I freaking..." I sighed. Saying the word brought a sour taste to my mouth as if I were swallowing year-old milk. "You know what I did."

"Then find some way to redeem yourself. Write an apology letter."

I gave him the most dramatic 'WTF are you talking about?!' face I could manage. "An APOLOGY LETTER?!"

He calmly looked back at me. "I wasn't being serious, Desmond."

I ground my teeth together, running a hand through my hair. "Being for real this time, how do I fix it?"

"Well...to fix your sense of morals..." He paused. "I'd say you find another woman to occupy your mind instead."

...

Two shots expelled from the silenced handgun. I glanced around the small, quaint neighborhood filled with nice houses for middle-class families. It was a scene from a movie - a perfect little place near the train tracks. Snow dusted the little neighborhood in its own version of winter. The only thing wrong with the scene was the body falling against the train tracks, blood running down its torso.

I didn't feel any lurch in my stomach like other people would at the sight of a dead body, nor the guilt and horror about being the one who'd killed someone.

I folded the handle of the gun into the barrel of the gun. Footsteps sounded to my left. They sounded like high heels on gravel; light, sharp crunches hitting the ground.

I turned in the direction of the noise, seeing a woman around my age. Her feathery dark blonde hair fell to just above her shoulders. She was dressed in a light purple cardigan with a tank top and dark blue jeans. Her heeled boots were a chocolate brown.

She had eyes the same color of her boots. Her lips were pulled in a neutral expression. Had she seen me commit the crime only seconds before? She was far away enough to be out of earshot with a silenced gun to be fired, but that didn't determine how good her sight was. She continued walking, a dark bag over her arm.

Since she more than likely saw it, does that mean I had to kill her too? Had she seen my face?

With paranoia and uncertainty gnawing on my back, I placed the folded gun in its case and left the scene with the sun just above the horizon.

...

"Oh, you're the one who killed that woman by the train tracks." A smile lit her features.

I jumped. My face paled. "And...you're smiling about it?"

"I don't approve of what you did, if that's what you're asking."

The worst place you'd want to meet someone who witnessed what you did - a murder - was at a movie theater. With a horror movie playing. With butter on the corner of your mouth. Especially when that witness was an attractive woman.

She didn't look at the screen. She kept her eyes on me. That pretty but condescending smile shrunk down to mere upturned corners of the lips. You could almost call it a ghost of a smile, but it was there. Barely alive, but there.

A feminine scream made me jump. I wasn't sure if she did, but she seemed as still as a flower on a frozen day. "Did you know the woman?"

"The one who just died on the screen? Yeah. Samantha Rose. Personally? Not at all."

"You know who I mean." Her smile returned again. Instead of being condescending, it was a more sympathetic one.

The horror movie reflected on her brown eyes. It was weird to see. She didn't even seem like the type to watch horror movies. She seemed like the type of woman who would stay far away from such movies.

"No," I replied. "She was just a stranger."

"Would you able to hurt someone you knew?"

"Uh...that's a weird question to ask someone you just ran into in a theater."

She blinked. "Oh, yeah." She laughed. "Sorry. I guess the movie is getting to me."

I glanced at the movie. The ghost terrorizing everyone was staring directly into the lens of the camera.

"Are you going to call the cops on me?" I glanced at her. Depending on her answer, I might just have to report her to Alker. If she did, then she might get targeted.

"Hmm. Well, that depends. Do you like what you do?"

"Uh...I don't enjoy waking up early in the morning. That count?"

She smiled. "You're funny. But no."

"I guess I don't."

"What do you want to be?"

I thought for a moment. "A cardio surgeon. But why am I telling you?"

"Because I'm a nice woman who's asking." She crossed her legs. "But I guess I've bothered you enough." Again, she smiled. "By the way, my name is Donna."

"Uh...Desmond-"

"Nice to meet you. Now, I'm gonna leave before I get scared for the sixth time." She stood, apologizing to those behind me before waving politely to me.

I watched her walk away until her figure walked away and out of my sight and a scream as loud as a banshee sounded behind me.

...

Summer was one of the worst seasons ever...well, scratch that.

It was the pit of Hell, a daredevil's oven, a flamethrower's best friend, and a weird kid with a magnifying glass and ant pile in his front yard favorite past time. Saying it was the worst season was an understatement compared to those.

But, lucky for all those crispy people living on that blue and green ball in space, there's more blue than green. And then some of that blue is filled with butt loads of chemicals.

Dipping one leg into the aforementioned clear chemical-injected water, I sucked on the cherry popsicle in an attempt to keep it from dripping on my chin and making me a vampire. A Gatorade of the same red color was next to me. Dressed in a Boys Like Girls t-shirt and the average swimsuit shorts, I felt like the odd one out compared to the other guys, but it was comfortable. It would've been perfect if there wasn't a lot of the god forsakenly annoying talking around me.

Some in Japanese, some in English, it wasn't easy to eavesdrop on anyone.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Sure," I murmured over my red popsicle. I glanced to my right, seeing a slender, peach-tone leg dip into the water. Before I was calling myself one of the luckiest men on the planet, I saw the familiar trademark feather hair hit my cheek. Well...even then I wouldn't call myself the luckiest man.

"Oh, sorry!" She laughed, dipping her other leg into the water. "I didn't mean for my hair to get in the way."

"It's fine," I said. The woman - Donna, was it? - waved to her left, gesturing for whoever it was to come near her. I glanced at her swimsuit - I was pretty sure my cheeks had gotten as red as the popsicle in my mouth.

She was wearing a cut-out swimsuit that showed her sides. There was a low dip in the back - nothing showed in the front. How confident was this woman? Well, compared to everyone else - bikini-clad women that I kept my eyes far away from for example - she barely showed anything, but for a semi-prude like myself, it was enough.

The one she was waving to was a teenager from the looks of it. No older than sixteen, he had jet black hair and rectangle glasses. He had a faint scar on his cheek. His build was lanky and slim - nowhere near a beef cake. His emerald green eyes glared daggers at me. It sent a shiver down my spine.

"That's my son, Lucas." She looked at me and smiled apologetically. "I told him about you. He's not very pleased by what I said about the whole 'killing someone at the tracks' part." She paused. "Oh, he has Osteogenesis Imperfecta, to explain the whole 'thin as a twig' thing."

"Oh, you're married?"

"Not currently. I got divorced a few years back. He's over in Florida."

"Oh...that sucks."

"No, we're good friends. We didn't have a major argument over anything." Add a number to the "friends I know who are divorced list".

I'd only heard the condition briefly when I was getting my Medical Doctorate. Something where bones break really easily?

I just nodded blankly. Near the edge of her cut-out swimsuit in the chest area showed something like a red edge, but you could barely see it. I guessed it was a rash.

After speaking to Lucas who refused to sit next to a killer, Donna stole a glance at me. "Were you looking at my cleavage?"

"No, no, not like that, anyway-" I cut myself off, worried I'd get slap. "Really, I just saw a red edge..."

Her expression softened. She smiled gently. "Oh, okay."

"Really, I - wait, wha?"

"It's fine. It's normal." She kicked her legs through the water.

"It's normal? How is that normal? Okay, sorry to break it to you, but you don't have the biggest boobs, lady-" I was lying there, I mean, they were a good size. But there were E cups in the world, and she was not an E cup.

"No, not like that. I'm not that shy over my cleavage." A light blush contradicted her statement. "Well, in public, yes. But since I have cancer, I usually have to have pictures taken."

"Hang on, what?!"

"Yeah, I know, it's pretty embarrassing-"

"No, no, rewind! You have cancer?!"

She blinked as if I'd just asked what color underwear she liked. Then she smiled. "Oh, yes. I probably should've told you, huh?"

I paled. I hadn't heard anything she said. I just felt bad - I'd never met a cancer patient, so it was odd on thinking what to say. "I...uh...sorry, Dawn-"

"Donna-"

"Right, Donna - that sucks...cancer, I mean...do you mind my asking what kind it is? I know it's weird of a guy you kinda sorta just met, but..."

"Not at all." That same smile of hers lit her face. "It's just the common breast cancer."

"Uh...how long have you had it..?" I let my other leg dip into the freezing cold water.

"Oh, I've only gone to a few chemos. I've had it for almost a year now."

"Um...sorry."

"Don't say sorry." Her smile was a lot more genuine - it held a little bit of something like sadness, but a true happiness behind it. "Just tell me good luck. When you say you're sorry, you're confirming my death, sorta. But with good luck, you keep my spirits high."

...

My chest was already in pain. Walking out of the hospital with a few pain meds in hand, I waved goodbye to the nurse who escorted me out. It was really painful, but compared the aftermath of the surgery earlier today, it was like a kitten lapping at my chest.

The mesh pad over the walls in my heart had shifted out of place. It had only happened one other time, and this time around they said that they actually fixed it correctly in place. But even so, it still really fucking hurt.

I looked up to see a dark blue Mustang parked to the right of the door. I groaned. "Augustine, can you just fuck off?"

"Language," he murmured over his cigarette.

"I thought you quit, jackass."

"Language." He took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Almost quit. I haven't even been smoking long."

"Four years isn't a long time?"

"Nope." Just to annoy me, he placed the cigarette in his mouth. "A friend of yours is coming. She said she had to get something first."

"Who's 'she'? Please don't let it be my mother. She'd curse me with holy water over something ridiculous."

"She didn't say her name. But she came out of the hospital with some teenage boy behind her. She asked me what I was doing while I was waiting for you. I told her your name and your whole heart surgery thing, and she went up the wall. Started freaking out and everything."

I sighed. "Teen son? Black hair, green eyes?"

He nodded. "Looked like a stick. Glasses."

"The woman...did she have dirty blonde hair? Brown eyes?"

"Yep."

"I know them...but what does she need with me?"

"She said she was getting something."

"Is she coming back?"

He blew a puff of smoke toward me. I glared at him. He grinned. "I believe so."

As if on cue, Donna came dressed in black tights and a light red shirt. "There you are!"

"Yeah, here I am," I murmured. Even if the surgery was several hours ago, the stitches hurt. I wished I hadn't said I could leave. Right now I wanted to just lie down.

"Your nice friend told me what happened. Since I just got out of a check up and I have a chemo in about five minutes, I decided to get you something to cheer you up. I felt bad because surgery is a scary thing." She smiled sympathetically. She held out a small bag to me.

"Thanks...er..." I didn't quite know what to say. She looked more concerned than a mother seeing her four-year-old child on a skateboard. I took the bag.

She smiled. "I really hope your condition doesn't hurt you. Just know you have a friend."

I raised a brow. "A friend? You're friends with a guy you met a few months ago, not to mention you met him with a gun in his hand and a dying person in front of him?"

She nodded. "Every person has good in them. Even you. If you really enjoyed killing, I wouldn't be standing here as I witness." That same mixed smile flashed at me. "I have to get to my chemo. I hope you both have a good day." She gave a gentle hug to Augustine. "I hope you quit smoking one day, Augustine."

He nodded. "I've gone through a few methods." He smiled at her. "I'll quit."

She turned and gave me a tighter hug. She seemed to be shaking...fear?  
When she pulled back, she looked me directly in the eyes. Her grip was gentle on my arm. Her skin was a lot softer than I would've imagined it. "Augustine has my number. Call if you have a heart problem."

I nodded, though I wasn't really listening. I caught myself looked over all of her features. I hadn't noticed the small, quirky smile she always had even when talking. One strand of hair that hung in front of her chocolate brown eyes.

"Okay?"

"Oh, yeah." She let go of my arm, but some part of me didn't want her to. I let her walk away.

Had she always been that nice? Had she always smelled like cherry blossoms? Had her skin always been that smooth?

"What's up with the dazed look, Dez?"

"What dazed look?" I glared at the Brit. He grinned as if he was amused at his own secret joke.

"Only known her a few months and you already like her."

"No, I was just noticing different things about her." The pain in my chest was starting to grow worse. It was throbbing. "I'm going home...and sleeping for the rest of the day."

"I'll drive you home." I opened my mouth to argue, but I shut it. If my chest started growing into unbearable pain while I'm driving, I might get into a crash.

"Do I really want to trust a man who lost his arm in a car accident?"

He laughed. "You shouldn't trust yourself either. Not while you have a woman on your mind."

The bag had a small pudding cup, an orange juice, and a cup of microwavable ramen. Okay, so it wasn't such a bad gift. I definitely felt a lot better after the ramen and the orange juice, but I didn't eat the pudding. It was rice pudding - the type I never trusted.

But after a while I felt bad that she got me something and I haven't gotten her anything. She was in a worse state than me. I mean...it's cancer. I've heard chemo can be painful. And since she has to lose her hair, it can't be fun. Plus, and shoot me if I'm wrong, I think she's scared of the chemo. As a newly-titled friend, her being scared over something was what I was supposed to fix. Either way, it would just kind of be returning the favor.

With pain meds in my system, I stopped in front of the hospital and parked. I got out of the car, a small box in my hand. I stepped through the automatic doors and stood to the side of the main lobby. I wasn't sure how long chemos took, but it obviously took a while. I took out my phone and put in my ear buds to pass the time.

...

"Desmond?"

I bolted awake, instinctively reaching to my right. I looked up, seeing beautiful chocolate brown eyes that seemed to glow with their own light. They had their own depth, like they could hide years of knowledge and hurt. I recognized them and the soft lips that were a light color of pink like a cherry blossom.

"You were asleep." The voice was recognizable too. But it felt like a stranger was in front of me. She had the same silken voice, but she didn't have the same feathery hair, the dark blonde fluffy locks that hung over her ears.

Oh yeah. The chemo.

...

I couldn't help but glance over to her. It was something I wasn't used to seeing - Donna without a single lock of hair. But even without her feathery hair, she looked beautiful.

Well.

Let me step back. I guess she looked normal. Okay, that's a lie. That's like saying an atom bomb hitting your city everyday is normal. But there was something different about her without her hair. I wasn't sure what, but it was something that was going to bug me all fucking day.

She chewed on the gummy bears I got her. It was a guess on what she liked, but she seemed to really like gummy bears. She said chocolate was her favorite, but I didn't waste any money, according to her. She had already gone through a cup of ramen - something of a copy of her - and her apple juice. She still had a Twinkie next to her to chow down on.

She looked happy. She sat relatively near me in the lobby, close enough to make me uncomfortable, but that was diffused by her happy, quirky personality.

I crossed my arms. I tapped the side of her head, glancing at the ear buds in her lap that she had taken out when she woke me up. She looked at me, a gummy bear in her mouth. "Where's Louis?"

"You mean Lucas?"

"Yeah, Lucas, the one who dislikes me."

She swallowed her gelatin treat. "He's at school. He wanted to go back while there were two hours left."

"Oh. Cool...I guess. Why didn't he just stay? It's just two hours."

"He wants to work really hard." She smiled. "He really wants to do something technical with his life, and that's not so easy to do if it's a high rung on the ladder he's looking for."

"Oh..." I chewed the inside of my cheek in anxiety. She hadn't said a word about her hair. Well. I guess she didn't really need to.

She might just be that used to it.

...

My glass was the only one full, not to mention the smallest glass. Someone had to drive.

"I'm not so sure-"

"Nonsense! We need some version of celebration!" He ruffled her short hair. "You're going to grow back a good of your hair and not celebrate?"

"I mean, it isn't like it was the first time..."

The Brit grinned. "Well, it is for us. And since you're not that comfortable with it, it's time you grow your shortcomings."

She gave a small smile. "You have a point..."

I glanced around the bar, a lot of drunk people milling about. It was more of a club than a bar - neon lights, lavish sofas, short dressed women and hungry men...yet all of us were single. We were all - technically - divorcees.

"So, Desmond, have you ever been with someone?" Donna asked me. Her cute temporary pixie-cut covered the top of her eyes. I much preferred her feathery one, but it didn't look too bad.

"Yeah. A couple of girls."

"Married?"

I swallowed hard. I took a drink from my shot glass. "Not exactly."

Augustine leaned forward. "You know about the whole killer thing, yeah? Well, a while back he had a certain woman he liked...dreadful in my opinion, but that's beside the point - he then got an order to kill her. He didn't know it was her for a while, seeing as a printer error messed it up, but he used the relationship to his advantage. He ended up shooting her at their wedding.

"But, unfortunate for him and fortunate for her, she lived to see another day. And then he-"

"Okay, okay, we're done, great story," I snapped, worried about her hearing the last bit.

Donna blinked, looking at me. She gave a soft gasp before pressing the back of her hand against my forehead. I could feel heat in my cheeks. Her skin was insanely smooth - there was also a faint scent of cherry blossoms from before that I guessed came from a lotion. She cocked an eyebrow. She seemed to have forgotten all about what Augustine had told her less than a minute ago.

She moved her hand to feel both my cheeks. "Huh. You looked pale, so I thought you'd be sick and have a fever. But only your cheeks are hot."

"O-Oh, I um..." I looked down at my shot glass. "Just the story. I..um...not so proud of it." I chuckled nervously.

"Why?"

"Because he hasn't really gotten over those previous feelings for the woman." Augustine grinned. I glared at him.

"Okay, that is untrue-"

"What was it you were talking about a couple of months ago? Oh, yes, you had feelings-"

"No, no, he's going crazy-"

Donna cleared her throat. "I could care less as to whether or not he has feelings." Her expression brightened with her signature smile. "It's none of my business. Besides, I'd be happy for him if he had feelings for a nice woman."

Both of us went silent. I would've spoken to be honest - but my mouth felt as if it had a heavy, painful piercing on it that no one would notice would cause so much pain. The worst part would be that I wouldn't know where it came from. Though I did know that the pain in my chest at those words were enough to make me look away from her for the rest of the night.

...

The night was quiet, a soft, blurry blanket of midnight blue and black cloaking over the sky with messy pinholes giving glimpses to the day to come. Small flashes of light from windows and television sets were all that greeted me. The graceful dance of leaves over the ballroom of wind greeted my eyes as my arms were only seconds away from giving out.

"She for real doesn't look this heavy," I groaned. I shifted a majority her weight onto my right arm for my left arm to hopefully stop burning. "You should be doing this, not me."

He ignored me, cigarette in his mouth and eyes looking straight ahead. It almost looked like he would chew through the paper and into the tobacco. His hazel eyes had a steely look to them, the red-colored glare over them giving a hostile feel to add on.

I paused and set Donna down. She was seriously wasted. She had only had four or five glasses of alcohol, yet her cheeks were flushed and her body was limp. I picked her up and adjusted her more comfortably against my shoulder, at least allowing less pressure on my left arm since it only carried her legs.

"What's your problem?" I murmured. I shiver jolted through my body. Augustine carried my jacket. I didn't have much of a chance to put it on.

A leaf crunched underfoot, making Augustine glance back at me. "Look, little man," he took out the cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke, "I'm not aggravated or agitated; nowhere near it, Dez. I'm just a little frustrated." He brought the cigarette back to his lips, breathing in the cancer-inducing perfume. I almost wanted to tell him that was just about the same thing, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Over?" A car drove past us on the road as we walked on the side walk. Augustine didn't even look at the car. He kept walking forward.

Again, he repeated the ritual of exhaling the cigarette trail. "Well...obviously you have feelings for this woman." He gestured his cigarette to the unconscious body of Donna in my arms. I gave a signaling light cough - I was growing a headache from the cancer fumes. What was ironic was that I was carrying a-

"A woman that has cancer, Desmond...that's not exactly what I would want for you. Yes, she is indeed a splendidly bright person, but...how long do you think her life will go on? Hasn't she had it for at least a year?"

I hated whenever Augustine got like this. Usually he's the upbeat dickhead everyone hates - but at times like these, he thinks he can be a condescending fucker who can spit flames and assume he sounds wise. He must not know that flames hurt, not heal.

"Just because she has cancer doesn't mean you can label her as dead. Jeez, man, lighten up."

He went silent.

...

One crack. Relief and then the pain was back again. I groaned. The sun in my eyes wasn't helping, either. The curtains were open just a crack but, just my luck, it decided to go RIGHT into MY eyes.

I sat up, but my back almost made me lay right back down. A sharp, abrupt pain was stabbing at my lower back. I tossed the blanket off the couch just before I heard thundering coming from upstairs.

I turned, seeing Donna with her hair in a mess. She was dressed in a t-shirt larger than her, but the same leggings from last night. She had a scared and angry face. The anger became more noticeable as she locked eyes with me.

"Did you SLEEP in the same bed with me?!" She exclaimed. She stomped toward me. "Did you TOUCH me?!" Small beads of tears were at the corners of her eyes. She looked down at the shirt. "You...you DOUCHEBAG!" I stood quickly, seeing her charge at me.

I caught the fist she threw in the direction of my face, raising my knee in defense as she raised her leg to kick me in the side. What I didn't block, however, was the sharp bite on my wrist. I cried out in pain, her teeth sinking into my skin and breaking through the thin layer, a small stream of blood dripping from the source.

"Oh my god, calm the FUCK down, lady!" I yelled, pushing her back in alarm and pain. I held my wrist, stemming the slow blood flow. "Why would you fucking BITE somebody?! I didn't even do anything! What the hell shit is that?!"

"You UNDRESSED ME!" She screamed, tears fully falling.

"No, no I didn't!" She was busy spitting out my blood into a tissue at the same time, making her voice muffled.

"Then who's bed was I in?!" Her hands were clenched in fists at her sides, ready to punch me. "Who's shirt is this?!"

Or worse. Prepared to hold me as she bit into my neck. Then a flash of her lips locked on my neck in something other than biting sent a shiver through my body. I felt heat in my cheeks. I cleared my throat.

"It was my bed, yeah, but I didn't touch you - all I did was carry you."

She was still frowning. "Uh-huh." She turned on her heel. "I need to brush my teeth and take a shower. Do you have a spare toothbrush?"

"Uh...yeah..." Why she suddenly changed, I wasn't sure, but I guessed it was because she was tired.

At least she doesn't have a crick in her neck and a knot in her back from sacrificing a bed and sleeping on the couch. Next time I was definitely investing in a guest room instead of a room for a study - well, okay, more of a man cave, but it's a badass man cave to study video games and other cool shit. It was worth it.

"I'm going to ask again - who's shirt is this?"

"...Mine," I replied. "You didn't exactly have anything appropriate to wear to sleep in. And before you ask, Augustine undressed you, not me."

I could just imagine the beet red blush spreading over her cheeks. Even blushing, she was cute. Well, I guess she was cute in her own way. The way she smiled was enough to make me want to cuddle her. Anndd, if I was lucky, a little bit of lip action.

Okay. Yeah. I guess a bit of a crush is there.

"As long as it wasn't you..." She murmured. I was slightly hurt by those words, though I didn't want to see her body in any way, no matter how smooth her skin looked and how amazing it would be to touch.

Shut up, I know it's not a small crush. But I don't want to see her body, honest. Being a prude makes you step back a bit. But hey - can't stop a dude from wondering.

I stopped in front of the bathroom, flicking the light on. Pulling open a drawer specifically for toothbrushes and toothpaste - because who wants that on their brush or deodorant? - I gestured to the different colors. "Take your pick. Not the red one though." I picked up an electronic toothbrush that was mainly white with a red stripe down the back. "That's mine. It has cooties you don't want."

She smiled in amusement. "Okay. Do you always have five or six extra electronic toothbrushes?"

"I buy things in bulk." I moved to a cabinet next to the sink basin and pulled out a blue towel. I paused and looked at her.

"Are you the kind of chick that needs two towels for your hair and body?"

She shook her head. "Nope." I nodded and shut the cabinet.

"Do I need to turn the water on for you, too?"

"Probably." She laughed. "I don't know how yours works."

After turning the shower on for her, I headed towards the door. "I already set out female shampoo and conditioner, just because I'm a nice guy who will go to the store for you. I'm not sure if you like green apple, but that's what I got. Anything else you need?"

"Yeah. A lock."

I glanced at the door. After a knob broke on my bedroom door and I couldn't stand not having a lock, I had taken the one from this door. "Um...I'm not coming in, I promise. I have to get to work."

Her lips formed a thin line. "Work? Murderer work?"

"That's the one." I gave a slightly guilty smile.

"You should really stop working there. Before you get hurt."

"I've been hurt before. I have no real reason to quit." I gave her a small grin. She looked severely displeased with my answer.

"So you want to kill people?"

"I'm not going to say it's moral, but a guy needs a paycheck."

"Didn't you want to be a cardio surgeon?" She was glaring at me now.

"Yeah. But with my record and an expired MD, I gave up a long time ago."

"So that's it? You're just going to keep killing innocent people?"

"That's not the case. We don't kill completely innocent people-"

She shook her head. "I don't care! You're a terrible person if you want to kill ANYONE!"

"Donna, you can't instantly label me as terrible-"

"Has anyone ever told you that you have the eyes of a murderer?" There was venom in her words - and that venom burned.

I opened my mouth to answer, but ended up not having an answer. I hadn't heard someone say that, but it felt like a slap that stung from her. No, an atom bomb detonating right in front of me. I never understood what it meant for a heart to sink, but I suddenly felt my heart drop down to the floor.

I shut the door slowly without another word, my eyes dropping to the floor.

...

All day those words bothered me. Hell, I almost cried in the car. I'm not a sensitive man at all, but that fuckin' hurt. If Augustine or someone else told that to me, I would've laughed and agreed, made a joke or two. But, and I hadn't noticed until now, her opinion mattered like a lifeline to me. There was venom in her voice. She intended to hurt me. The words were the knife stabbing into my heart, but the way her eyes surveyed my expression and the tone of her voice was the agonizing twisting of the blade into my internal organ.

I was hoping she had gone home as I drove home. But she didn't have a ride to go home in, unless she had a friend. Augustine said she didn't have any capsules in her jacket, so I'd have to drive her home. If she was still at my place, I wouldn't be able to look her straight in the...anything. I never thought she could be so...I dunno, so fucking intimidating. Maybe she really was still hung up on the murder on the train tracks? Maybe she was actually aware of my feelings and using it to make me turn myself in? Of course there were warrants out for my arrest, but I had people to cover for me - but she would definitely have enough to incriminate me.

To be honest, I'd prefer her putting me in prison. I'd welcome the cops, so long as I didn't have to see her. Her whole "hate" thing was really hitting me.

I stopped the car at the house. The door was open. I glanced around the lawn and the street. There weren't any cop cars around, no blaring red and blue lights accompanied by yellow no-cross tape over the perimeter of the lawn. I stepped out and approached the door. I placed my hand to my back, feeling the handheld gun under my shirt.  
When it comes to the...industry, I suppose you could call it, precautions never hurt anyone. Especially when you're house door is open and all of the lights were out. Faint thunder sounded in the distance.

Another thing ate at the back of my head, though. A gunfight I could handle, but Donna could still be there. Either she could have been hurt by an intruder, or I could accidentally shoot her if she popped out of nowhere.

I walked into the house, closing the door behind me. It was dark - it was close to ten or so already. I doubted Donna would actually be here, but I couldn't the feeling was starting to leave a heavy weight on my chest. It was like someone was pressing slowly onto my chest, though it was an insanely hot feeling. Then it hit me - that heat in my chest was anger. Protective anger.

I turned down the hall, slowly stepping. A loud bang on something hard made me freeze where I stood. A small gasp wasn't far from my position. I could recognize it almost instantly.

It was Donna.

I couldn't stop myself from sprinting in that direction. The heat in my chest grew. The pressure built. I bolted over the corner of the living room, ramming into the small table just over the corner, my balance faltering and a loud thump sounding behind me. My side burned from the sharp corner of the mahogany hitting and possibly puncturing my skin - that wood had broken a long time ago. It made me think of when she bit me.

Would she be able to defend herself?

I stood, ignoring the burning pain - I could bandage it or whatever later. Being stopped by the table stopped my mind too. Fear and anxiety raided my body of warmth, making chills go through my spine. It was still dark in the home that didn't feel like home. The fucking door was open - Donna wouldn't just leave it like that. Not at ten o' clock at night.

My breath felt short. Images of her dead or being hurt flashed behind my eyes. They were bound to appear - I've killed women in my career, and images to scar my mind come with it.

I could feel the tightening in my throat. I could hear rain outside, a thunder sounding. A while back lightning had started, about a whole hour. But rain hadn't started falling until now...it didn't help with the nerves or my growing panic.

I walked forward, into the kitchen where I heard the feminine gasp and loud bang. I heard silent crying and sounds of a struggle or something close to it. I stepped in, my hand hovering behind my back to bolt for the gun. As soon as I gained sight of the kitchen, my hand flew to the handle of the gun, though I only connected to my shirt.

 _Oh fuck._

I glanced forward to see only the window shining moonlight in through the peek in the clouds. The same moonlight shined on a figure with shaking shoulders.

Donna.

I couldn't help it. Tears just fell. I saw her shoulders freeze and seeing her turn. I was already falling to my knees beside her.

"Des-?!"

"Oh my god, Donna, you fucking scared the shit out of me," I said, my voice shaking like rain against a window pane. "I-I thought...fuck, Donna, I thought you were _dead,_ or something..."

She was already hugging me like a child to her mother. "Desmond, no, I-I'm okay-"

My hand held the back of her neck, pressing my forehead to hers. Relief just made me want to hold her, protect her, even if she was in no danger. I took several breaths to steady my voice. "I'm just glad you're okay." I paused. "But why were you crying?" I didn't move from where I was. The scent of green apple and hibiscus flower calmed me.

I heard her sniffle. "I...um...it was late, and lightning started flashing. I guess...one hit a power line and made the power go out...and I ended up tripping when I was trying to make you something when you came back home...I figured..."

I gently moved my hand away from her neck, pulling back and looking her in the eye. Anxiety gnawed at me from her earlier words, the one about my eyes...my gaze fell. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Well...it was just a small burn, nothing serious-"

"You burned yourself?!" My eyes shot to her hand, seeing a light shade of red from the moonlight. "What were you making?"

"I..." I wasn't sure, but her cheeks seemed red. Was she sick? "I was making you some cookies. I just felt bad from what I said earlier..." Tears bubbled up in the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry! I-I don't know what came over me!"

Guilt stabbed at my heart. Everything felt like my fault. I leaned forward, again the same relief and now the guilt joined with the need to comfort her making tears spill forth. "No, no...it's okay, I promise." I hugged her to my chest. "You're right anyway. I know my eyes are a little weird. But...I guess since I am a murderer...it tags along with me." My mood felt heavy. It was like she was making me think of all my terrible flaws and making me hate myself.

Suddenly she ripped herself off me. "No, Desmond! Your eyes are fine, I mean...you're fine! I was just so tired of..." Her voice faltered and she basically fell on me, again crying into my chest.

"But Donna, I know you don't like how I murdered that woman at the tracks. I feel terrible about it." I wiped my own tears away quickly, then gently lifting her face to look me in the eye. "I don't want you to hate me. Ever since you told me how I look like a murderer, I just couldn't stand myself. I felt sick all day at work. But it wasn't even what you said - it was just you hating me. I hate seeing you cry. I hate seeing you unhappy. I hate hearing about your cancer, I hate hearing how you don't care about my feelings." I swallowed hard.

"But...Desmond, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry..." The tears switched back on. My concern went overboard...in instinct and in my feelings for her and my need to protect her, I leaned forward and gently kissed her tears away. It all sounded so cliché - but when you do it and see the face of someone you love, it feels like...something indescribable. Even then, however, my eyes dropped.

"I don't hate you for what you said." I gently caressed her cheek, her smooth skin greeting my own, my thumb gently wiping away another tear. I didn't look her in the eye - I focused only on her falling tears. I could hear her heart pounding in her chest. "It's made me think about myself. About my life. My career...about you."

My other hand picked hers up, gently touching the burn. I didn't hear her wince. It must have happened a little while ago. I gingerly laced her fingers with hers, squeezing gently. My heart quickened in fear of her thinking all of my little affections were too bold - hell, she didn't care about my feelings. Was this weird for her?

My thumb glided over the back of her palm. I could hear her heart calm. I couldn't keep a small smile back. I finally met her eyes. "Donna."

"Y-Yes?"

In that moonlight, the light blue glow of the moon so late in the night, her eyes shined brighter than what you'd imagine from a star. The beautiful brown color was so much beautiful in person. They were entrancing like a lullaby made to sing you to sleep. They had warmth and depth of a strong woman who was also sensitive to the ways of the world - one that held fear, sadness, and love. I could hear my own heart quicken.

"I..." I felt my chest gain pressure and heat again...though it was a different kind of heat. It was attraction - the heat one will get when in close contact of someone they love. And damn, I felt like my heart was melting. And I was pretty sure I had a hint of pink to my face. It wasn't helping that we were so close - was she wearing lip gloss?

I took a breath. I couldn't stop myself from glancing to her lips. I wondered if I could actually-

She laughed lightly. She leaned forward, snuggling her face into the crook my neck. Then she pulled back after only a few seconds. Her eyes still glistened with previous tears. "You're an amazing person, Desmond. One of the best men I've ever known. I'm so grateful you came back. Well...that's silly to say, this is your house." She smiled. That beautiful smile of hers that I've fallen in love with.

"Why? Do you not like the dark?"

"I'm fine with the dark, it's just...I was worried you were mad, for one. But when I burned my hand, I tripped and...well...I accidentally hurt my ankle. I didn't see the coffee table when I was closing the door - that's why it's open - and I came back to the kitchen where I fell...and twisted it.

"I was worried about how I'd be able to get home. My phone's on the couch, so..." She gave a nervous smile. "I'm hopeless...I even bit you earlier."

"No, you're not." I smiled. "You're wonderful. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're...I don't know..."

She smiled again. "You're sweet."

I didn't smile. "I'm sorry I'm so flustered..." I knew why I was flustered - I wanted to avoid it as much as possible. I was the only one who had done anything showing attraction. I couldn't tell if she liked me back. I couldn't think of one casual thing to say. "Nice lip gloss..."

Great. Nice one, Desmond. Way to fuck it up. There goes the mood.

"Huh? Oh, it's strawberry."

"Why is lip gloss flavored, anyway? Does it actually taste like it?"

"I'm not sure...I usually just wipe it away with a napkin."

I nodded. A bang of thunder made both of us jump.

"You know...I thought someone was in here. That's why I was so scared for you." My eyes fell to our still-entwined hands. "I saw the door open. I still had adrenaline from work. The lights were out. It just didn't sit right with me. I could tell something was off. And when I heard you crying...I dunno. I was ready to shoot someone. I was just so mad. The thought of you getting hurt. It just hurt to just think about." My head fell. "I'm sorry we keep going back to the emotions...I just felt like I had to explain myself."

I thought back to the gun. I'm pretty sure I would've fired if I actually did have my gun. I guess when I fell, that thump behind me was it. I still remember the heat in my chest.

"It's fine. Do you...still want to work there? I won't bother you about it anymore."

My eyes lifted for a moment, then fell again. "I...don't know. I don't want to work there anymore. Not if it upsets you. Instead, I want to..."

Okay, Desmond. Don't fuck it up. Just...think about her.

Great cheesy thoughts, brain.

"Find a new job?"

I shook my head. "I'll be fine for a while. I...need someone- I mean, something else to occupy my m-mind, I guess...and...I..." I swallowed. I took a breath. My heart quickened. "Donna, you're amazing. Even when tears are falling down your face. You're beautiful. I can't stand you not being here with me. I can't help but think about you. Ever since I met you, I've had nothing but a pull towards you. Whether it was just as a friend or...something else, I already know that, after tonight, I..." I looked her in the eyes. Her expression was still other than a hint of shock. "It might be obvious, but...I think - no, I know - that I have to be the only one you look at...I have feelings for you. To put it bluntly, I-"

For what felt like the millionth time, tears were falling. At first I thought they were of sadness. But then I saw her smile. "Desmond, you idiot. You didn't need to say all of that. You just needed to say three words."

I blushed. I opened my mouth, but shut it.

She smiled, wiping her tears. "I'm happy. Don't worry. I just...Desmond, I love you too."

If you could ask someone who's a pro in love how to describe the feeling of how it is to here someone you love have feelings for you, they'd say it was like your heart exploding. But to me, right now, on the floor of the kitchen with my left hand entwined with her right and rain falling outside, it felt like millions of tiny hearts were going off and making fireworks in my heart.

She leaned forward...I could feel my heart thumping harder than I'd felt it. We were inches apart now. The scent of apple and hibiscus were present again. They made me want to pull her to me in a lip lock...kiss her neck and feel her skin-

I needed to calm down. But it was hard to with that scent of her and her so close to me. Fuck it.

I pulled her toward me, my hand on the small of her back. I pressed my lips against hers, a huge weight lifting from my chest. She didn't pull back. She didn't find any discomfort. I felt her arms encircle my neck, making for a deeper kiss.

Acting off instinct and something like lust, I dipped lower to her neck, feeling her shiver at the contact.

"D-Desmond?!"

I froze. I pulled back instantly, my cheeks beet red. "Sorry! I, er, I dunno...I just-"

She seemed to calm a bit now that I was off of her. "It's okay. You just...took me off guard." Her face was red as well. "Plus...it was pretty sudden for a first kiss between us."

"Y-Yeah...you're right. Sorry..."

"You're good." She laughed. "It was a wonderful kiss. I hope it isn't weird of me to say I've been waiting for that kiss for a little while now."

"I should probably drive you home, huh...? Lucas'll be worried..." I dodged her last statement about her wanting to kiss me for a while. If I dragged on that part, I wouldn't be able to hold myself back from kissing her again.

"Yeah." She smiled.

Another thought shot into my head, making me blush again. "Or...if you want to stay the night..."

She blinked. "Desmond. I understand you're crazy for me. And you're a guy." She smiled. "But I'm not going to sleep in the same bed as you. Probably not in a while. But I'm not saying I don't love you just as much."

"Will you be able to walk?"

"Yeah. I'll make do...but what I wanna know is did the lip gloss have a flavor after all?"

I thought back for a moment. "Yeah...it actually did."

...


	3. Tonight You're Perfect

I took a deep breath. My phone was ringing in my pocket. I really wish he would just hang up...and stop texting. I already told him I don't love him anymore. Why he kept calling was beyond me. Probably he was mad?

I ran a hand through my long blonde hair. Well, half of it. Because of my awesome lion mane reaching my thighs, it got annoying. I tapped my fingers against my thigh. Yep. I'm stalling.

Okay, Alexandra, you're going to have to suck it up and move on. Who knows if he's here anyway? Just go already.

I forced my feet to walk forward. I attempted to keep my hair under control, but that was hard with the wind whipping it around in an alliance with the snow. I spotted the familiar royal purple hair from more than ten feet away. Now to close that distance.

Again my phone vibrated. I took it out of my pocket and turned it off. I started off with a confident stride forward, but as soon as his eyes hit me, my walk slowed immensely. He gave a friendly wave. Vanilla was next to him. "...probably ask you instead of him, you know," she whispered.

Nathaniel brought a finger to his lips. "Shh." He smiled towards me, making me once again lose my initiative. I crossed my arms to calm the shake in my hands.

I cleared my throat. "Nathaniel." I looked up at him. "Nice to see you."

"You too." He placed his hands into his pockets. "Need something?"

"Nothing in particular. Just had a...er...question." I tapped my fingers on my arm. The snow on his head and his height reminded me of Mount Everest.

"Good luck to ya, tall one," Vanilla said, poking her elbow at his side. "I'm heading home. Mom's here." She jerked her thumb behind her to a black car, Jennette's hand waving from the driver's window. Nathaniel waved goodbye and I followed suit.

Nathaniel turned back to me once the car pulled away. "So...that question?"

Gosh darn Mount Everest. Do you not see that I was hoping I could leave?! I almost wanted to smack the snow off his head, but I didn't want to hurt him...and even then he was too tall for me to reach his head.

"Do you think the dance will be fun...?" I laced my fingers together. "I just..wanted someone else's opinion before paying for a ticket."

Nathaniel grinned with nervousness. "Yeah. Sure." He gave a nervous laugh. "But I guess it's your opinion...are you going with Josh?"

I pretended not to hear him for a moment before I sighed. There was no way I could fake not hearing him when it was dead silent, omit the wind. "I don't know yet."

"Oh. Fight?"

"Sure."

He nodded. A lull in the conversation started to grow. "So...er...the um...real reason I asked you...was..." I swallowed. My heart started to beat faster and louder. "Do...you, um, want t-to..."

He had a clueless blank look on his face. I didn't want to finish it. I groaned.

"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" I managed to blurt out.

I saw his tan skin turn red at his face. A nervous, shocked jolt stirred the snow. "R-Really? Are you, uh, serious?! I mean, yeah...I'd l-love to."

I could feel a smile split my face. "Oh my gosh, thank you!" The nervousness I had was thrown away instantly. I threw my arms around his neck, forcing me to stand on my tiptoes. "Thank you! I can't wait!" I let go of him, seeing his face even redder as I walked off home with a wave behind me.

...

"Mom. Please. Just shut up." I slumped against the table. The dark purple dress laid on the surface next to me.

"But Alexandraaaa!" She cooed. "You've just been going on about him for weeks on end! How can I not just love the both of you to death?!" Great. The annoying British mom is never going to shut her mouth.

"Um, by ignoring it and letting me live instead of slaying me," I murmured. "And even then, you don't know if it's going to work out. Especially with Josh on my case..."

"But you and Nathaniel are just MADE for each other!" She beamed. "And Josh...you don't have to give a toss about him! He's not really worth your time anyway, Alexandra. Didn't you say you broke up with him anyway?"

"Well...kinda..." I murmured, burying my face into my folded arms on the table. "I just said I hate him..."

"What was that? You're talking into your arms-"

"I said I hate him," I said louder. "But that doesn't count as us officially breaking up...hopefully he gets the memo with me asking Nathaniel instead." I lifted my head, resting my chin on my arm.

"Hmm." She stepped to the sink nearby, washing her hands. "Well, I have dinner to prepare for. We're having pork loin tonight after your wonderful little dance."

...

Only four hours left until the dance starts. And all I have is a dress and heels. No jewelry set aside, no makeup scheme drawn out, no headband or hairpiece.

Oh well. I have four hours! That's plenty of time.

In the meantime, Tumblr has been expecting me. Sitting at my laptop and turning it on, I quickly typed in my password. A picture of Josh and I pulled up on the desktop screen. I rolled my eyes. I could change it later.

Tapping into the internet and then Tumblr, I saw several notifications. I tapped on it, seeing most of them from Josh commenting on whatever he could find. Most of them were questions on how I didn't ask him to dance and reminders of how long the dance was from now. A few of them were insulting, but I stopped caring about him. I clicked out of Tumblr, shutting off the laptop. He could deal.

...

Three hours. What to do for three hours. Before I could think of something, my phone went off with a call. It was from an unknown number. I sighed, picking it up. "Hello?"

"You'll answer an unknown number but not me?" It was Josh.

"Josh, really, you're being really insistent," I murmured. "Get lost already."

"Hey, you're going to go to that dance with me whether you like it or not." There was a growl in his voice. "Not with that nerd."

"One, he's not a nerd. He's a great guy. Unlike you."

"Oh, you want to start insulting people?"

"I'm surprised you haven't cursed yet." I glanced at the oven timer, seeing twenty minutes left for the cookies to finish baking. Too long. I was starving and I wanted something sweet already.

"Do you really want me to start cussing?" There was a severe warning tone in his voice.

"You already did on Tumblr."

"Thanks for answering those, bitch," he growled. "You forgot we're a thing. You're not just going to drop it."

"All you want is someone to get in bed with." I tugged on a strand of hair, idly curling it around my finger.

"You still haven't done it with me, which is pretty pathetic."

"Maybe you're just not that appealing," I spat. "Not every girl wants you, druggy. And that includes me."

"Since when did you get so bold in the first place?"

"When you started ruining our relationship."

He said something I couldn't make out, most likely to someone else. "Whatever. Why didn't you ask me?"

"Wow, you're really dense." I added in a chiding laugh. Fifteen minutes left on the cookies. This was going to kill me.

"Dense? Says the one who can't see a good-looking guy two feet in front of her."

"You're not standing far away enough."

"What are you trying to say?"

I sighed. "The drugs affecting your ability to think independently, too? Or have you always had to have someone to hand you answers on a silver platter?"

"You're going a little too fucking far, Alex."

"Must be a hearing affliction, too. I've told you tons of times not to call me Alex."

"I can call you whatever the fuck I want!"

"I'm my own person. And I never gave you permission over my name. Anyway, I have cookies to take out in a few minutes. See you."

"I swear to God if you hang the fuck up-"

Tapping my phone off, I placed it on the counter. I glanced at the cookies' timer. Ten minutes of my life I wouldn't be getting back.

...

Two hours. Mom said I should probably be getting ready, but I haven't thought of anything. Plus, two hours is pretty early to start getting ready. Heading into the living room, I saw my dad playing Rock Band with Mom.

They both sucked as guitarists.

"Ohhh, Alexandra, shouldn't you be getting ready for Nathaniel?" Mom asked over the fans of the crowd - well, the booing.

"I have two hours, Mom," I replied. I flicked a strand of hair over my shoulder. "I think I'm good."

"Aww, but Alexandraaa, it takes a long time to look good! Aren't you doing anything to your hair?"

"I wasn't planning on it-"

"No, no, no!" She literally dropped her guitar, making the booing increase. Dad glanced at her before he was focused on trying to keep the booing down - he wasn't helping much. Mom stomped toward me, her blonde bun bobbing. "Don't you want to look good for Nathaniel?" There was no anger about her face or her aura - only shock and concern.

"You have to do SOMETHING with your hair!" She turned to the German desperately slamming the plastic piece replacing the strings on the Rock Band guitar. "Play solo for a while. We need to work on Rio de Janeiro anyway."

...

"So - anything picked out yet?" She hummed a song I didn't recognize as my hair slowly passed through the hot curler. I made her swear not to give me severe ringlets - I was only okay with light curls. Anything else and she was getting that curler in her eye, still switched on and plugged in.

"Dress? Yeah. You went with me, remember?" I glanced at her.

"Not that. Makeup, shoes, jewelry...et cetera."

"Nope." I looked down at the book I was attempting to read. It had been months since I'd picked it up. I wasn't much of a reader - I couldn't focus on words too much. All the black and white...it doesn't go through my brain after a while.

I closed the book and pushed it to the side. A lock of hair fell and hit my face. It was still hot, but it didn't feel bad at all. "So...what do I do? I mean...he said yes to going, but how do I...I dunno, ask..?" I said it quietly.

"To dance? Well, at the slow song, just ask," she replied with a smile. "It'll be adorable!"

"Mom, really? That's cliché."

"Aw, but it's sweet." She paused, allowing another lock to fall. "Ask him when you feel it's right. Don't ask it randomly or when you feel you have to - say it when you have that feeling...as cliché as it sounds."

"Yeah. Pretty cliché. But I guess it makes sense."

She patted my head fondly. "I'm glad. Do you even know how to dance?"

"A bit."

"How?"

"Movies."

"Movies?"

"And the internet."

"Tumblr, you mean."

"Yep. Exactly right."

She just laughed. "Ah, Alexandra, you and you're little addicted self." Next ringlet fell on my collarbone. "You know, your hair doesn't easily curl. But either way, it'll be beautiful just like the rest of you."

"Okay, Mom," I murmured. "Thanks..."

"Nathaniel will agree, I'm sure," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Mom, hush."

"Fine, fine..." She shifted her weight to lean more to the left to get the back of my hair better. "Nervous?"

"Oh yeah..." I gave a nervous laugh. "More than you could know..."

...

I turned in front of the mirror. A deep frown was on my face. The lip gloss over that frown attempted to make it look lighter than it was, but the attempt failed. The purple dress stopped just above the knees, the sheer fabric over the actual fabric accented with small bits of glitter. The empire waist dress was tied off with a teal ribbon that cinched in the back. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that it was sleeveless and the length.

A sharp knock sounded on the door. I fixed the headband and gave a final look at my dark pumps and jewelry before approaching the door. A dark tan jacket and blue shirt was the first thing I saw. Looking up, a large smile, white hair, and hazel eyes looked annoyingly excited.

"Alexandra!" He pulled me into a tight hug, crushing me slightly. Something that I guessed was a part of his metal arm dug into my back, creating pain quickly. I sighed.

"Okay, let go, Grandpa," I said. "You're gonna mess up my dress...and break a bone."

He let go, but the excitement was lessened in his eyes a bit. "I was just giving you a good luck hug, jeez. You don't always have to hate me, do you?"

"Yes, yes I do. When you're annoying." Of course, he's my grandpa, so I'm entitled to love him. And I do, but he gets annoying most of the time. Even if he looked young, that super annoying grandparent feel was still there.

"That hurt." The excitement was replaced with sadness, but I knew I loved him, so I didn't feel bad. I walked past the annoying Brit, striding to the kitchen downstairs. I heard him follow me down the stairs. I saw Mom with a knife in her hand, cutting up what looked like green onion.

"What are you making..?"

"Pork loin, remember?" She started cutting them in another direction, making them finer and smaller. "I wanted to spice it up a bit differently. Also I'm making tomorrow's lunch since it takes a while to cook."

"Soup or something?"

She nodded. "Vegetable and beef. Your dad wanted it, so I figured it'd be nice to have it for the middle of the day."

I nodded slowly. "Okay. Are we going?"

"Oh, are you ready?" She hadn't looked until now. Her eyes lit up like fireworks. "Oh, you look beautiful! I can't believe that you did it so quick, too!"

"It's just putting on a dress, Mom," I murmured, hoping my cheeks hadn't turned a rosy color.

"Most girls take a few hours," Grandpa said next to me. "How long did it take you? One?"

"Thirty minutes..." It was odd how long girls took. Well, I guess I wasn't too fond of checking myself over anyway.

"Your makeup! The mascara and eye shadow definitely make the brown pop!" Mom exclaimed. "Nathaniel will be fainting at the sight of you! Come on, let's go! He's waitinggg!"

She grabbed my wrist, bolting to the door before freezing. "Dad, can you do something with the onion? Thanks!"

"Do what exactly-"

"Bye!" The door closed behind us.

...

The drive was quicker than I would've liked.

We got there within ten minutes, but it felt like we went faster than the speed of light. One blink and it was home to the campus. I swallowed hard. My hands were definitely shaking.

Mom moved the rearview mirror to face me. A sympathetic smile strung across her face. "I hope you have fun, Alexandra. Don't be so nervous. Call if you need something, okay? If something goes wrong?"

I nodded. "Got it." I gave her a small smile. I pushed the car door open, butterflies starting up as soon as the chilly air hit me. I should've gotten something like a jacket or a shrug - I'd forgotten it was winter.

"Love you!" Mom called as I walked to the front door. I gave her a wave and watched her drive off. My smile fell to a nervous frown. I almost wanted her to drive back.

I heard the door of the gym click open. Music pounded in my ears as I stepped inside, the previous clicking of my heels drowned out by talking, laughing, and the bass pumping. I glanced around the gym, expecting to see Mount Everest somehow. I did spot Vanilla alone, though. She didn't look bothered - in fact, she looked pleased of her single status. She was dressed beautifully, though. A dress a little longer than me and her hair curled more than usual with a butterfly pin in it.

Her attention was grabbed. Her face cracked a grin as Nathaniel approached her. I felt my heart pick up a few beats. He was dressed in a navy blue tuxedo, nothing different to his hair. The lack of difference was something of a relief, though I couldn't pin why. They seemed to discuss something embarrassing or something of the like, as he turned cherry red.

Almost right then, we locked eyes. I wasn't sure if the red got darker, but he seemed shocked about something. It made me a bit self-conscious. He said something to Vanilla before walking my way. I gave myself a quick glance over as he stode over the gymnasium. Soon he stood in front of me.

"Hey," he said with a small smile. "Glad you could...er...make it." His voice was shaky. I wasn't the only one who was nervous. "You look...great."

"Thanks...you too," I reply, not sure if the air conditioning was too hot or I was blushing. From somewhere farther in the ocean of couples, I heard someone yell my name. I didn't recognize who it was, but it sent a chill down my spine. "Er...you mind if we move?"

"Sure...you okay?"

"Yeah. Just...someone I don't want to see is here."

...

Already an hour had passed. We'd skipped two dances, both of us too nervous to go into close proximity to each other.

The previous song ended, to be picked up by another one with a recognizable beginning. The song played a bit more before Nathaniel glanced to me.

 _...someone to believe, believe, believe in_

 _Tonight you're perfect_  
 _I wanna fall in love with stars in your eyes_  
 _Tonight you're perfect_  
 _I wanna fall in love but only for the night_  
 _Only for the night_  
 _Tonight you're perfect_  
 _I feel perfect too..._

"Kinda reminds me of you." I glanced at him, seeing his shocked expression at his own words. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yeah," I say with a small smile. I was too busy blushing to give a full reply. "It's okay...thanks," I managed to say.

"N-No problem..." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't. "Sorry for being so nervous," he said.

"Not a problem, Mount Everest." I froze.

"Mount Everest?"

"I...uh..." It was my turn to be embarrassed. Then he burst out laughing.

"I didn't think you'd give me a nickname based on my height compared to yours. That's pretty funny." The nervousness seemed to dissipate.

"That's what I always liked to call you. It's the best when you have snow on your head."

He laughed again. "I bet."

The song changed when the other was close to ending. I felt an edge of panic when I heard the melody of a slow song starting. The same nervousness started up again. I glanced at Nathaniel, seeing he was glancing at me was well. Locking eyes, we both looked away. I almost wanted to laugh - that kind of thing always happened in movies.

"So...er...do you...u-um...want t-to...dance...?" The words came out slow from Nathaniel, but my heart lifted a bit with each syllable. I smiled a bit - yeah, I was nervous, but it was nice to here that he wanted to dance. Not even nice...it was amazing.

I nodded. I watched as he held out his hand. It was shaking.

"Chill. It's not like we're getting married," I say, taking his hand even though I felt the same way. I could feel his tremble cease once I touched his, and mine stopped as well. He led me to the dance floor, stopping once we were somewhat in a clear area. Not many people were dancing - mainly the "heart throbs" of the school. And that was fine with me.

Again, Nathaniel started shaking. I could feel his pulse quicken. We turned to face each other and I realized how awkward this was going to be, seeing how short I was and how tall he was. I pushed the thought away, managing to place my hand on his shoulder. I heard him chuckle. I shot a glare at him.

"Sorry," he murmured with a quick, amused smile at me. He placed his hand on my lower waist - well, managed to - making me nervous.

He led, stepping with experience. I wasn't too shocked - he was rich. I'm sure he needed to know these things. I barely managed to keep up, his legs longer than mine. But I was able to not step on his feet or stumble on him. If went smoothly for the most part. I heard a call of Nathaniel's name in a cheer. Vanilla.

"Whoo! Getcha some, Nathaniel!" She exclaimed, alerting the attention of other people. One person I recognized was Lucas, the wallflower he was. He only locked eyes with me for a few seconds before resuming to sip his red-pink punch.

I swallowed. Yeah. Punch sounded great just this second. Then the gym went silent. It was already over?

I felt Nathaniel remove his hands from my person, a quirky smile pulling his lips. I looked him over with curiosity - I had looked at his face more times than I can count. But something was different there.

"What?"

"Nothing..." I smiled. "Mind your own business, jeez."

I think I knew why it was different. He wasn't relaxed - but he also seemed to have eyes that only locked on mine. I felt heat rise in my cheeks.

"Punch?" He asked. I nodded. Anything to allow him not to see me blushing over something he didn't know that concerned him.

He left me on the dance floor. I watched him walk away. I took a deep breath.

"Alex."

I turned. And there he was, royal jackass to conquer all jackasses. Josh. "Can't you take a hint?" I growled.

"Yeah. And that was a bitch move. You have the nerve to come with him after all? What the hell is that? You want to go out with more than one guy?"

"I'm not going out with you anymore, Josh. Get through your narrow head." I glared.

"What do you mean?" He shook his head. "Nevermind. Let's just talk outside."

"And why should I? How do I know you're not going to kidnap me or something?"

"It's a prom, idiot. I don't have anything to gain from that anyway. Let's just go."

...

"Fine. What is it?" I crossed my arms over my chest. I continuously glanced into the nearby window of the gymnasium. "Make it quick. I have punch to get."

"It'll be quick. Just why did you not ask me?"

"Because you're a jerk, that's why. All you do is cuss and say stupid things, then get mad at me. I don't want to go out with a guy like that. Nathaniel's sweet, polite, and he doesn't blame me for anything. He doesn't get mad at me."

"So you want to be a whore?"

"What- you can't call me a whore! I broke up with you!" I was getting severely angry now. This idiot couldn't get through his head that we're over. Now I'm outside telling him for the millionth time like a kindergartener.

"If you're going to be a whore, than I'll treat you like one," he growled. He advanced on me, a malevolent look in his eyes.

"But I'm not! I'm with one guy!" I took a step back. Still, he advanced until my back was against the wall. I glanced to my left and right, seeing no one outside other than one drunk high schooler - which was odd, seeing as there wasn't alcohol at the dance.

I froze. His lips were on my neck. One hand held both my hands. The other touched my chest, and not in an accidental brush.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I exclaimed. "Stop! You're going to get in trouble!" I was tempted to kick him, but his knee pinned my thigh. His lips went lower, and that was when I realized this was for real. "GET OFF! I'M NOT JOKING!" I screamed. I hoped someone inside heard, but with the music blaring, that was next to impossible.

The hand that touched and violated my chest moved to the hem of my skirt. "JOSH! Please, don't!" Tears were pouring down my cheeks.

"Oh please, you know you want it. If you want two guys to do this, one will be fine. Don't play the innocent virgin."

"But I AM a virgin! And I'm not dating two guys! I don't want this!"

"Whatever."

One hand trailed up my thigh, moving to underneath the hem of my dress. "JOSH!"

He moved to the back of my dress, touching the zipper at the back. I heard it lower before I heard a door slam open. Footsteps thundered on grass, but my eyes were shut to where I couldn't see who it was. Then something like a hard smack and hitting the ground hard. Then I felt different hands touch me.

"Stop!" I exclaimed. Then I was pulled into what felt like a hug. I opened my eyes. I recognized the cologne.

Nathaniel.

I broke into more sobs than before, tears pouring down my cheeks. They were uncomfortably warm compared to the cold weather. I could see my clouds of breath compared to the dark navy blue suit. My legs felt like jelly other than the parts where Josh touched me. His contact burned even if he wasn't touching anymore and he was in the snow. I could hear his wheezing. I could hear Nathaniel's stressed heart beat against my ear and his slowly calming breathing.

I pressed my face into his warmth. It made the frozen tears on my cheeks have a weird, sharp feeling to it. Like touching a piece of ice and keeping your finger there.

"Alexandra?! Are you okay?!" The always-recognizable voice of Vanilla. I felt the all-too comfortable warmth pull away from me. Then I was left with icy cold. Then warmth returned around my shoulders as I glanced to see he had put his blazer around my shoulders.

The hard sobs came back and I fell against his chest. He held me again, holding me steady and supporting me. I could imagine Vanilla's face - either the face of realizing she was a bit misplaced or struck with OTP feels...if you could call it back.

"I'm gonna call my dad," she said.

"Okay." Nathaniel gave an assertive nod before adjusting the blazer on me, getting it around me mostly. It was incredibly warm. I didn't want to move from where I stood, even if my legs burned with fire licking my calves' muscles later on. But eventually he let go.

"Are you okay?"

I swallowed. I couldn't speak. I wanted to, but I couldn't.

"Well..." He let out a breath after waiting for an answer for a few seconds. "At least you're not crying anymore...and I'm glad you're okay."

Images of Josh touching me flashed behind my eyes. I could hear Josh starting to curse on the snow, getting up.

"You little fucke-"

One "well-placed" kick made him quiet quickly. I loud groan and the sound of movement being made in the snow was all that was heard to the left of me. Nathaniel draped his hand around my shoulders. "I'll walk you to the front of the school. Vanilla will look after you. I have to get something real fast." I looked up at his face. I hadn't looked up since he'd left me. Now he had concern to add to the rest of his expression. His eyes conveyed it most of all. I never believed the statement that eyes were windows to the soul until I finally understood what it meant.

The sound of crunching snow beneath us distracted me. I kept brushing at my cheeks because I could still feel the tears. They never left, still frozen in place. His arm left me as soon as we stopped. I didn't like it. I disliked it even more when he went back inside, even if he gave me a smile.

Vanilla looked slightly annoyed. She had just hung up from the looks of it. She looked back up to lock eyes with me. "Sorry about that whole thing with Josh. You know boys." She gave a hand gesture that symbolized dismissal. Her humor didn't really help. "I'm pretty sure he's getting expulsion. That jerk bag deserves federal prison. Well, not really, but juvenile prison!" She gave an assertive nod. She glanced to me. "C'mon. Lighten up! You'll back and laugh, I'm sure." She smiled. I knew she meant well, but the comical relief from her just wasn't helping.

The screech of tires stopping on payment cut our conversation short...if you could call it a conversation. I exhaled, seeing Goten, Vanilla's dad, poke his head out the window. "What the heck is goin' on? Your call was pretty cryptic," he said with a bit of a pout.

"No time, daddy-o." She opened the door, gesturing me to enter. I gave a polite nod before ducking into the car. Vanilla sat next to me, but I wished Nathaniel was back. I loved her to death, but she just wasn't what I needed right then.

After a couple of minutes of questions and no answers between the daughter and dad, Nathaniel finally appeared. He took one glance in the back seat before opening the door and literally dragging Vanilla out.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, stamping her foot. "What the hell?! Jerk!" She looked like she wanted to continue, but exhaled and stomped around the hood of the car to sit down in the passenger seat instead.

The warm air conditioning made me feel a bit better. Nathaniel sitting next to me was even better, added on with the fact that we were driving away from the school. I gave Nathaniel my mom's number to text her and let her know I was coming home. I didn't have much guts to tell her.

Nathaniel put his phone down, looking at Goten who turned to us at a red stop light. "Okay. So - where am I going? Where do you live, Alexandra?"

I opened my mouth, but my vocals just wouldn't work. I felt a choking feeling. Nathaniel leaned to indicate I could tell him and relay it. For some reason I could speak softly to him but couldn't speak normally.

That's how the car ride went. Nathaniel receiving directions from me and Goten following them. Vanilla played some music to try and perk up my spirits. None of it worked, but she played some songs I liked. One being "Tonight You're Perfect" by New Politics, the same that played at the dance. You would think I would instantly snap to the incident with Josh, but it only made me think of Nathaniel and how he saved me without hesitation.

That made the ride go much faster. I swallowed once I saw my house pull into view. Something like dread welled up in my chest. But then some relief warmed me. The car stopped. I opened my door, stepping out and turning to thank them until I heard the other door shut. Nathaniel was walking me to the door.

I gave a small wave to Vanilla and Goten. She saluted me, Goten waving back. I walked up to the front door, stopping at the door and turning to Nathaniel. "Thanks...for...yeah," I said quietly.

"No need to thank me. It was my fault, really..." He perked up. "Oh, I...uh...brought your punch. Since, you know, you were...thirsty...but I guess since you're home, you can drink something else-"

I took the small cup and gave an appreciative nod. "It's not your fault. Thanks."

Silence passed between us. "I should've come quicker. I shouldn't have left."

"It would've happened anyway..." I murmur. "You're fine." He didn't look satisfied, but I guess he focused on something else.

"Hey. Cheer up." He gave me a small smile. He prodded my chin up, making me look him in the eyes. I sniffled. My nose and cheeks were probably still red from crying and the cold. "Mount Everest doesn't like seeing his little hill sad."

I tried to glare at him, but I couldn't help but smile. "Shut up, Mount Everest. And get that snow off your head."

"But then I wouldn't be Mount Everest."

"When you shrink, you won't," I countered. He nodded.

"Accepted." He smiled. Silence.

With a much lighter heart, I turned to the door. "Guess this is goodnight. Thanks for taking me to the dance."

"No problem..." He looked occupied now. I turned the knob. "Wait. Alexandra-"

I turned quickly. "Yeah?"

He froze up. His cheeks seemed to be red. I could see him take a breath.

"Nathaniel-"

Before I could finish my sentence, his lips were on mine. Instant warmth filled my body, from my toes to the very top of my head. Like the Grinch, my heart grew three sizes in the matter of seconds. Those few seconds of us joined felt like hours, enough to make me go around the world and back.

Then he parted and the cold came back and I was reminded of winter. He smiled. "Goodnight."

Before I ended up saying something stupid, I waved, going inside and shutting the door.

Several minutes passed by for recovery. Only after I heard the car pull away did I realize.

He forgot his blazer.


	4. Christmas Lights

Lights danced in front of my vision. Thoughts swam in my head in an incoherent mass of gibberish. Despite the effects going through my system, I allowed more to enter, firewater pouring down my throat and directly into my stomach. It was a comfortable but scalding burn, something that made me ache for more.

"You're already drunk!" A voice chimed next to me. "I've had the same amount as you and I'm not even tipsy!"

I managed to give her a glare. "I'm not drunk." I could hear myself sound slurred. It was only light to me. I downed another shot.

"You need to dance or something." Her dark hair barely registered within my head. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my vision. "Oh, look, someone's coming over - doesn't look too bad, either. Bleached hair?"

I managed to follow her line of sight. I gave another shake of the head to clear my vision further. She was right - a male I didn't recognize was approaching us. Maybe he was an upperclassman. I was only a first year - I couldn't tell what year he could be in. That might be because of the alcohol, though.

Another thing that my friend had said was bleached hair. It was definitely white. It wasn't the bright colour of bleach though. It looked like a calm white, as if it were normal. He had hazel eyes that barely showed through long bangs. Nothing like some college boys who had emotional and social problems, but enough to cover the upper half of his eyes. He had thin glasses that looked slightly lopsided.

His cheeks had a dust of pink. Was he drunk or tipsy like me? It wouldn't surprise me. When you go to a college party, even if it was Yale, you get drunk. He seemed to want to say something. He glanced back to another boy who shamed him in looks. What killed it though was his shock blue eyes. I looked back to the one standing next to me, uninterested to the other.

"Hi," he said. I wasn't sure if I heard a British tone in his voice or not. "My name is Augustine...I was hoping to approach you to ask...er...if you wanted to join me for-"

"He wants to go out with you," the other shouted over the pounding music and laughter. He definitely wasn't from Yale. He had the Harvard pin on his shirt. I wasn't sure how he got here, seeing as term was still going, but I honestly had too much alcohol in me to think straight.

I glanced between the two. The fellow British man - as I realized when he spoke - who stood in front of me didn't look too bad. He seemed like the cute shy type - long curly white hair, glasses, long bangs. It didn't seem so far-fetched. I mulled it over and took another drink.

The drink decided for me. I didn't even actually think. I gave a drunken smile and pulled the stranger - Augustine, I think it was? - toward me by his tie, smacking one on his lips.

...

The notion was silly. Many people say that, when in a hangover or other, hitting your head against the wall will distract you from your current situation. What was silly about it was that I was willing to test that theory.

I pressed my hand on the wall of my dorm in preparation for the blow before I heard knock on the door. I heard it open and then I knew who it was. Only one person had the balls to actually open the door and get away with their body escaping the morgue.

"Farah," I murmured. "I'm really not in the mood for your teasing." She was easy to get mad at - she didn't take her studies too seriously. I, on the other hand, was more than willing to get my degree and feel proud of myself. She teases people constantly. I'm not even sure why I'm still her friend.

"Hey, Selena Gomez," she teased. She knew I hated her calling me that.

"Selene. Not Selena."

"Fine, stick in the mud." She sauntered into my room, a miniskirt and a cut-out shirt. Striped stockings that went up to her thigh accented her tan skin. Her dark brown hair curled into ringlets and put up on the right side in a curly side ponytail, she looked like a super model. I was almost surprised she was here, at a sophisticated place like Yale.

My head was pounding. It was playing the death march in time with some pop song that came out a week or so ago. I ran a hand through my blonde hair. It needed to get trimmed. It was already down to my lower back, which was insanely longer than I wanted. I only liked it to mid-back. Even then I disliked it, but I'd long since grown used to it. I sighed.

"Aspirin?" She appeared with two small pills. She placed them in my hand and clicked over to the small fridge in her heels. That was her flaws - her shoes never matched her outfit. And right then, lime green shoes did not match the rest of her mainly pink and blue outfit.

She produced a water from my mini fridge, handing it over to me. I had my own aspirin, but I hadn't thought to get it somehow. My head was pounding too hard, along with vomiting earlier. I left to sit down on my bed, downing the pills. She moved to sit down next to me. Her pink lips pulled a cute pout.

"So - about your new boyfriend-"

I almost choked on my water. "Boyfriend?!"

She blinked. She smiled and laughed, her white teeth shining. "Yes, boyfriend! You got together just last night!"

"What are you talking about?! I don't want to be with a guy!"

Her eyes widened. "A girl?"

"No!" I shouted, my heart pounding in fear. "What if he's a rapist? A murderer? A man who just wants me for my body to place whips and chains on to do just those two things?"

She glared her heavily-lined eyes at me, her long lashes accenting her glare further. "Oh, please." She leaned forward. "With your flat chest, who would?" She placed her hands on my chest for effect. I froze. I shoved her off me quickly.

"Don't touch me!" I hissed. "Especially there!"

She shrugged. "I don't know what you're freaking out about. They're just boobs. Soft masses of tissue against the muscle."

I shot daggers at her. "Shut up."

"Oh, don't be a sourpuss just because I have boobs and you don't," she winked at me. I sighed. "Don't you ever smile?"

"Yeah - with people I like."

"So your first kiss?"

"If he comes around, sure." I ignored the fact that I had an imaginary boyfriend. "But I've never asked a guy out and one has never asked me out."

"Until last night - when you said yes." She smiled.

Farah was testing my patience. "No, not when I said yes. When the alcohol said yes."

She frowned. "You know, you shouldn't just turn him down like that. Guys with bleached hair are usually total bad boys. You should give him something of a chance."

"Bleached hair?"

"Yeah. You don't remember? He's that one guy we heard about a few months back. He killed someone or something in his junior year." She leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I heard he's totally emo, too. He's got some major scars on his arm."

That got my attention. "I'm not going out with an emo."

"People say he's really polite, though. He's really smart. He's getting a degree in Criminal...something," she giggled.

I pursed my lips. It was something of a gamble to give a chance to someone who would most likely be a martyr. The emo people I've spoken to end up either being uptight and hate people or they're severely sensitive. Those or, the worst one, ones to use their scars to gain publicity.

What was I thinking? This isn't high school. There are no martyrs here. Those were all left behind - this is Yale for crying out loud. Martyrs would be frowned upon and ignored. Everyone knows not to look at them and give them what they crave.

"I'm not going to babysit someone with emotional problems," I murmur. "Yes, it's a shame, but I don't want a kind of romance where I have to comfort him." It came out almost as a growl.

Farah shrugged. "Alright. But you could at least talk to him. Who knows...maybe the rumors could be wrong?"

...

Formalities were all we got through. The rest of the time - five minutes to be exact - was complete silence.

Augustine's hands remained in his pockets. I wonder if he knew he asked me out. After all, I couldn't have made a mistake - I didn't know any other upperclassmen with white hair. The rest had previously bleached their hair, but it had all been blonde or some other colour.

He didn't look me in the eye after he addressed me. He fidgeted with the edge of his plain black long-sleeved shirt. It didn't look bad on him - with his slim and tall build, joined along with the white hair that popped against his shoulders, it would hard for black in general to look bad on him.

"So...what year are you?" I asked.

"Third," he replied. "You?"

"First."

He looked surprised to hear that answer. The surprise quickly left. He adjusted his glasses, clearing his throat. I could've sworn he was holding back a smile.

"What?"

"Pardon?" He looked at me with confusion.

"...You looked like you were smiling about something," I murmur.

He managed a small smile, barely a small upturn of the corners. "Oh, no. It would be rude to."

He definitely didn't seem like the type to be polite and conserved. You could tell by the playful but well-hidden shine in his eye. He found it funny that I was a first year and I knew it. I would've believed it if I hadn't known better. Even if I knew, I wasn't going to dog him about it.

"Do you remember last night?"

"...Yes," he said. "I'm sorry. I honestly didn't know you were drunk. I wouldn't have asked you if I'd have known...but I ended up asking anyway."

"It's fine..." So he didn't take advantage of my intoxication like some other crazed and infatuated man. That still didn't ease my concerns of what I'd spoken to Farah with. Murderer, rapist, a mix of both...

"I understand you don't really have an attraction to me." He gave an apologetic and shy smile. "We can both forget about the kiss. We can both move on and say we haven't had our first one yet."

"That was your first kiss as well?"

"Yes," he replied. "I was never a...let's say a stud, with the female populous."

"Hmm." It was odd to hear. He wasn't someone to drop dead for, but he also wasn't too bad-looking either. Maybe he didn't know about the crushes he might've had?

"That includes you, though. I've only just worked up enough courage over all these years, and that was with the help of a bit of alcohol." He gave an amused and nervous chuckle. "I really am sorry for that."

"How've you known me for years?" My senses were ticking off. Stalker? Maybe he really had been meaning to rape me. Or kill me. Or both, in whatever order.

He gave me a slightly surprised look and then returned to neutral. "Oh. You must not have noticed me. Ha, that's okay. You're not the only one who has. We went to the same high school. I left in my junior year...I departed with a bit of a reputation there." Augustine didn't look like he wanted to be upfront with me about it. I could tell by how he started chewing his bottom lip.

"I don't recall. Unless you were the one guy who got expelled after killing some guy named...er...Hiru?"

"Hiroko," he corrected. Bitterness was in his voice. It was old bitterness, though. He gave a weak laugh. "Yeah...I'm that guy everyone disliked."

"Oh. I didn't really care about their opinions. I don't really listen to those who judge others."

"I'm glad to hear that." He sounded genuine about it.

No, I didn't really have many positive feelings toward him. He just seemed like an average guy to me. But from the looks of it, we both graduated early and around twenty or so. He must've been around 22 or so, seeing as I was 20 myself.

"So...this is the part where you say you're not interested," he said in a reserved tone but with a smile.

"No. This is the part where you tell me whether or not the rumor of you being emo is true."

This time he actually couldn't hold back a laugh. Something about his laugh I liked - it was much different from the polite and reserved personality he gave off. This one was more playful and free-sounding. He laughed for a good minute or so, leaving me with moments where I almost laughed along. He removed his glasses, wiping away a tear. He looked at me with a direct gaze, glasses removed.

"No, that rumor is false. I love life as it comes. The past is in the past. Yes, it is true that I used to...be emo, if you'd like to put it, but not in physical appearance. I did once attempt to end my life, if you heard that "rumor" as well and wished confirmation. But now, no, I have nothing against life or its hard beatings."

"So you have scars?"

"Yes, Ms. Albyn, I have a few scars to remind myself of my poor choices." He placed his glasses back on.

"You can see well without your glasses?" He had had a direct gaze at me as if there were no blurry affects from removing his glasses.

"Yes, I can see fine. I'm a tad near-sighted is all. These are mainly reading glasses, but I occasionally need them in general."

"If they are mainly reading glasses, you could be ruining your vision."

"That may be true, but I'd prefer to read something as soon as it is given to me rather than hunt for my glasses." He gave me a polite smile. "The sentiment is not lost however, Ms. Albyn."

I pursed my lips. The polite act was growing old on me. I could tell it was a façade. "Please act normally. If you ever want a chance with me, you're going to have to be yourself."

He was silent for several moments. "But this is how I would prefer to act around you. If I appear to you as a delinquent, there is no way you'd appeal to me. But I'd doubt you'd appeal to me at all." He grinned.

"At this rate, I won't. If you want my appeal, start pulling off that fake face and be yourself. Politeness can get annoying, Mr. Diez." I turned on my heel, my blonde hair turning with me in a wave of blonde. I sent him a glare just to get the point across.

Though I did leave him with one mercy. I didn't say I'd end whatever this was.

...

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, just a little studying." He shot my a smile to make anyone else smile. It made me, someone who usually never smiled, give a slight grin.

I wondered why. He wasn't insanely good-looking. I guess his personality was bright..which was different from a week ago. Augustine was an odd man, that was all I could deduce.

That was proved by the fact that he was sitting in a tree on a high tree branch, reading a book.

I walked under the tree, seeing the title. "Ha. You're not studying. You're reading a mystery novel. Liar."

His cheeks turned crimson. He turned the novel over as if it could give him an answer. "But I covered the front-"

"You've been reading it for the past week. I've noticed."

"Have you?" He gave teasing, amused smile, leaning back against the tree. "So you've been paying attention to me?"

This personality was much different from a week ago. There was no teasing smile. He didn't have that calm ambience. He seemed like a nice guy. I didn't answer his question.

"So. I've been wondering for a while..." He closed his book, tossing it to the ground. "What are we? You never made an official statement as to whether or not we were severed as a couple." He swung his legs forward and backward like a child.

"I dunno. I don't have any attraction to you, though. Friends, maybe. But I am willing to give this...thing...a chance." Even from seven feet or so below him, I could see his eyes light up.

"That's wonderful!" He gave a large smile that showed his teeth. It was a fantastic smile. I felt a small flutter in my chest at the sight of it - I don't know, something about his cheery personality and just him himself. His smile was tantalizing in a way I couldn't quite describe. I guess you didn't have to be a heart throb or a stud to have a smile to die for.

"So, not to be the one to jump the gun, but how's a movie sound?"

He leaned forward, though instead of keeping his hands firmly on the branch, he let one go and ended up pitching forward. I closed my eyes, hearing a hard thud on the grass only seconds after.

...

"Ow, ow, ow! I told you I just got the air knocked out of me, not my whole back scarred!" I pressed the cotton ball into the cut, hearing a loud wince. "Cut it out! Seriously!"

"There's a gash on your back. Don't act like that." I adjusted myself on his bed, the comfy covers rustling in my movement. His dark blue shirt was partially off. He refused to take it all the way off, only covering his arms, in a way people wear jackets backwards.

For some reason, I expected scars to be on his back or something, like all guys in romance novels have. But his back had nothing on it, omitting the gash in the center of it.

"Do you remember the kiss?" The silence between us was growing annoying. And the words sort of tumbled out of me. It had been bothering me for days on end.

He glanced back at me. "What kiss? The one you decided to errantly gave to me whilst drunk? That wasn't a kiss."

"Oh? Now you want to be snarky?" I hiss, pressing the cotton ball covered with hydrogen peroxide again into his wound.

"Ow!" He groaned. "Okay, I'm sorry. But I do remember it. May I inquire why?"

"I was wondering if it was okay...omitting the drunk factor. Not for you to know, just for the sake of knowing."

"I don't know. I believe I told you that was, technically, my first kiss."

"Right..."

"You didn't have to clean my wound, you know. I could've done it."

"When it's in the centre of your back? Ha. Have fun with that."

I finally bandaged it, hearing him wince when I stuck it on. I glanced over the rest of him, seeing a small cut on the side of his neck. I lifted his hair, seeing him turn quickly. "What are you doing?" He asked. He held my wrist.

"...I just saw a cut. Calm down." I held his hair after he let go, attempting to pick up the cotton ball.

He sighed. He leaned over to his dresser, picking up a hair tie off the top and tying his hair into a loose ponytail quickly. "There."

"Thanks..." I gently dabbed at the small cut. "Do you usually put your hair up?"

"Only in here. I don't dare go out with it up." He laughed. "Imagine how many looks I'd get."

"Hmm. It doesn't look bad with it. You look better with hair off your shoulders."

He gave a quick glance at me. He smiled. "That so?"

I nodded. "Maybe you should cut it."

"I'd prefer not to. I don't like looking people in the eye."

I stopped. I put the cotton ball down and crossed my arms. He turned to look at me. "You don't look people in the eye? That's a lie."

"No, it's not. I've never looked you in the eye. I've always looked just a small bit over. Right..." He tapped right next to my eye. "...here." He smiled.

"Why can't you look people in the eye?"

"Because eyes are windows to the soul and a person's true personality. I don't want to see that when they speak to me. I don't want to see the distaste when they look at me, if that makes sense."

"So you don't like being judged?" I rested my chin on the palm of my hand.

"You do?"

I went silent. He made no movements, studying me carefully. He smiled.

"You smile a lot. Why is that?"

"One, it's polite. Two, I like to smile. It brightens your mood. Scientifically proven."

I frowned. "I suppose that's a good answer." I picked up the tweezers and got a new cotton ball. I dabbed it in hydrogen peroxide and continued to dab at the back of his neck. "How bad are your scars?"

"The ones on my arm?"

I nodded.

"Before I give you an answer, may I ask why?"

I shrugged. "I'm curious."

"Curious in a man you're playing the relationship game with?" He gave me something of a smirk.

"I don't play games, Mr. Diez."

"Augustine. And yes, in a way, you are. You don't even feel attraction to me, yet here you are." He brushed a bang out of his face.

"Nevermind that," I snapped. "Can I see your scars?"

"I don't mindlessly show them to people. People usually give me a shocked face or shocked sympathy." He smiled. "I'd prefer not to see any shock on your pretty face."

I shot a glare at him. "Don't start complementing." He shrugged.

"If we're in a "relationship", it's normal for me to compliment you, Ms. Albyn."

I sighed. "Relationships aren't all like that. Some are just all about-"

"Sex?" He pulled the shirt off of his arms, now nothing covering his torso. "And before you ask, it was getting hot in here."

"It's not hot at all-"

"Wound?" He snapped.

I pressed my lips together, then sighed. "Fine. But all relationships are nowadays are about intercourse and carnal desire. There is no more trust. It's all about looks."

He didn't really seem to be listening. Then again, he kept glancing at me as if he were. This third year would never make sense to me. "I'm guessing a relationship based purely on carnal desire is not what you want."

"No."

He gave a small smile - it looked like a teasing one, or like he had a plan. Before I could blink, he pinned me to his own bed, hovering over me. He still had that smile on his face. "What the hell are you doing?!" I yelled.

"So you wouldn't like an attractive male pinning you to their bed like this? Maybe even whispering things in your ear?"

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. "I would mind. And even if I didn't, that wouldn't be you."

His normal, full smile returned. He got off, helping to straighten me up. "I was only playing, silly. I don't want that relationship either. Your expression was hilarious, though."

I wanted to stab the tweezers into the gash in his back, through the bandages and into the flesh. "You're so annoying. No girl will ever want that with you."

"Oh? So you were sick and not blushing when I pinned you down?"

I shot daggers at him. "You keep up that attitude and your gash will look like you got beaten in a sword fight against Blackbeard."

He laughed. "Okay, Ms. Albyn, but I was only joking. I'm never that bold towards women." He smiled. "In fact, they terrify me."

"Then why are you talking to me?"

"Because I love you." He smiled. I caught a glance of the crisscrossing scars on his arm. He followed my gaze. "It's also why I'm trying to get used to short-sleeved shirts." He laughed.

There were many cuts on his arm. They had long since faded, but they were there. I picked up the cotton ball and decided to not say a word about it.

...

"That movie was dreadful. I never want to go to any movie you recommend." I glanced up at him. His height was still annoying. He was over six feet tall, and I was only an average height for a female.

"Oh, I thought it was good." He grinned. "It was probably because you were there."

"Your flattery is futile." I glanced at his long hair. "I've been wondering...is your hair bleached?"

He laughed. "No, it's not. It's natural."

"You're an albino?"

He nodded. "Correct."

"Shouldn't your eyes be red?"

He didn't answer immediately. "No, just tinted red. Nothing so serious as full red." He smiled. "Spring is very pretty. Even though it's windy."

I brushed my hair behind my ear. "It's annoying when windy."

"I agree."

We both continued to walk down the sidewalk, walking past a garden filled with small flowers and large flowers alike. I stepped on a few stairs to be level with him. "Do you like your hair long?"

He nodded. "As I said, I don't like eye contact."

"Maybe you should try and cut it."

He gave me a surprised glance. "Cut it? Why are you suggesting it again?"

"I'm curious if you actually have a red tint," I lied. I actually just wanted him to get more comfortable with eye contact, in a way. I wasn't even sure why I cared. I went to the movies because I had said I would - but this wasn't even necessary. I didn't feel any attraction to him.

"You're lying." It was my turn to give a surprised glance. "Your pupils are dilated. And you're not glancing or looking at me like you usually do."

"And you know that how-"

"I'm working for a doctorate in Criminal Justice," he explained. "I'm taught these things."

"...Okay, well, maybe I just want you to get more comfortable with society. You might look better with short hair."

"Do you prefer men with short hair?" He gave a hopeful glance. I wasn't sure if I was annoyed or amused by the fact that he was still trying to get me to like him.

"I prefer men that aren't annoying." That got a laugh out of him.

"Fine. Maybe. But only if you promise not to make fun of me when you see me."

"Promise. So you're going to do it?"

"When I get the courage to. And can I ask another condition?"

I hesitated. "Sure..."

"I won't cut my hair unless you promise to gain confidence in your body." He gestured to my chest. "Your friend, Farah, had a lot to say-"

I threw a punch at his face.

...

Farah pressed the lipstick matte onto her lips in front of the mirror. "You should try makeup one day, Selene," she said, glancing at me. "It would look good on you. You don't have to have blue eyes for mascara and eyeliner to make them pop."

"I doubt it would work for brown eyes."

I coughed, causing Farah to turn and face me. "Are you okay?" She asked.

I nodded, sniffling. "Yep. Probably just some allergies."

"You should probably just chill in bed just to make sure."

...

I turned under the covers. I felt miserable. I swear I got some kind of sickness when I was walking with Augustine. My chest hurt, my breaths were ice cold; the room itself, even though I was under covers, was the new arctic circle. For two days I haven't seen Augustine, and I was happy and sad about that. The sadness was odd to me. I didn't feel any attraction. I guess it was because I needed someone to yell at.

I coughed into a tissue, tossing it into the wastebasket on the right of my bed. I pulled the covers over my head, wanting to just go to sleep. But, since I was now a mouth-breather, that was next to impossible. I reached over to my phone, plugging in my ear buds and turning on the radio. I didn't feel like turning on my playlist.

A song I didn't particularly like played. I unplugged my ear buds and tossed them and my phone onto the end table. I swallowed. My throat felt like someone was imprinting their brand on the inside of it.

Then I heard a sharp knock on my door. Edgar Allen Poe sounded in my head. I heard it open and the chiming voice of Farah. "Your boyfriend is here!"

I knew who she meant. I still don't know why I haven't broken up with him yet. No attraction was there.

"Also," she continued, "he's got a whole new look to him!" She sounded excited. I was interested. Did he cut his hair?

I heard the dorm click shut and then complete silence. I almost thought that he hadn't come in yet until he cleared his throat. I peeled the covers off of my head, turning to face him. My eyes widened in shock.

His hair was cut. It covered the upper half of his ears, brushed back to show his eyes completely. It still had a hint of curl to it, but not so much that you would know if you first met him. A bandage was placed on his cheek where I had punched him.

He smiled. It wasn't his usual wide, bright smile. It was reserved like the first time I spoke to him sober. "So...if you haven't noticed, I cut my hair."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah.." I coughed. "You did. It looks great." His smile twitched a little bit bigger, but not by much.

"Thanks..." He fidgeted at the edge of his shirt.

"Sorry about the punch."

He blinked as if he wasn't sure what I was talking about. Then he chuckled. "Oh, it's okay." He brought his hand up to touch the bandage. "It was the ring you were wearing that cut me."

I looked down at the ring I wore, seeing the inscription as "F & S". Farah and Selene. I gave a small smile. "I can imagine it hurt."

"Oh, it did." His smile fell. "You could have told me you got sick."

"Why? I only got sick today. Nothing major."

"Yes, but it was my fault. You got sick because you were outside and it happened to be chilly. It's spring, but it's gotten chilly out."

"It's not your fault, Mr. Diez."

"Augustine, Ms. Albyn."

"We're not on a first name basis yet, Mr. Diez," I said with a glare. Even if I was sick, I pulled off the glare - I could see in the chill he got down his spine.

"Alright...well, I guess you don't seem too thrilled to see me." He smiled. I could tell it was pulled. "I'll leave you alone to rest."

The door clicked shut.

...

Finally, summer was almost here. The year was coming to an end. The real heat was starting to come in. My cold had long since gone away, though the cough remained. It was light, but still noticeable and bothersome.

The term was close to ending. We'd be out of school for the summer. The thought was sad. I wouldn't be able to see Farah. As annoying as she was, I couldn't help but miss her. She only wanted a bachelor degree, so she only had one more year with me before she left me for good.

Another person pulled at my heart. He was only a friend to me, but I ended up almost missing him more than Farah. He was even more annoying than her. And I've only known him for less than half a year. Maybe he was actually growing on me?

A crunch in the grass sounded behind me. What was I going on about? There was still a few weeks before term ended. The crunch in the grass sounded again, and another time. They got louder. It intimidated me, as it was close to dusk.

I turned, seeing Augustine walking toward me. His hands were in his pockets. I had long since grown used to his short hair. It suited him. Especially when he was dressed formally.

He smiled. "Hey."

"Hi...what's up with the suit?"

He looked down at himself as if he didn't notice. "Oh. It kind of ties to why I'm here." He paused. "It's a lovely day."

"Er...yes, it is..." I replied.

His smile faltered. "Sorry. Nervousness." His grin returned. "Anywayyyy," he said, approaching me. "Term is almost over. Would you like to get coffee?"

I lightly coughed. "Coffee?"

"A no will suffice, Ms. Albyn."

"No, no, we can. Just let me get some cough drops and get changed."

...

I glanced at his suit. A flower was in his lapel - my favorite. A bluebonnet.

"Bluebonnet?" I murmured.

He nodded. "Farah told me you like bluebonnets. I hope that isn't too cliché."

"No. It means you care."

He gave a hopeful glance at me. "So do you care for me yet?"

I glared at him. "Drop dead." He laughed.

"I just might with that tone." Silence passed through us other than my heels clicking on the pavement. "Cream is a nice colour for you."

"Is it?" I glanced at him, smiling. Then it fell into another glare. "Cut the flattery. I'm not going to like you."

"A man can try, right? Especially for a beautiful woman like you."

"What did I just say?"

"Sorry, Ms. Albyn." He smiled. He glanced to the garden we walked past a month or so back. "Remember how you punched me here?"

"One of the best memories of you."

"Oh, that hurt." He laughed. "Which reminds me...and please don't hit me...did you ever get used to your, ah, assets?"

I shot a bullet through my eyes at him. Then I diffused the bomb. "Sort of."

He smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Next question-"

"When did you say you were asking more than one question?"

"When did you say I had to warn you?"

"...Point. Continue." I crossed my arms. A couple walked past us, glancing at us and smiling. I made no reaction.

"May I ever get the pleasure of calling you by your first name?"

"No. Only when I date you - which is never."

"Understood. You can call me Augustine whenever you'd like." I laughed.

"Nope. Same conditions."

He nodded. He glanced across the street where the café was. "Be careful, alright?" I nodded, seeing him go first and I followed. I glanced to my left, seeing a car slow down as I was about to cross into that lane. I saw a bright light to my right.

"Selene!" I looked at Augustine, who was suddenly pulling me forward as a car sped past. As soon as I slammed into his chest, he fell backwards, hitting the sidewalk. The man who was driving the car shouted a curse at the both of us. I felt hot liquid on my cheeks - tears? I was shaking. I'd never almost been hit by a car before. Now I understood why it's a terrifying experience for other people.

"Thank you," I managed to stammer. I lifted myself off of him, glancing down and seeing his eyes closed. He didn't seem to be conscious. "Hey." I gave him a shake. "Hey! Augustine!" I shook him harder. Was he unconscious? Or worse? "This isn't funny!" I shouted. I felt more tears pull at my cheeks.

Then I saw a smile pull the corners of his lips up. "You're welcome. And thank you for finally using my first name."

Rage boiled in my chest, sending fire through my bloodstream. "You unbelievable BASTA-"

He put a finger to my lips. "No swearing. Now please get off of me."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. I was sitting on his chest on the sidewalk, a throng of people watching. My cheeks turned crimson as I bolted off, almost tripping in the process.

He got up, dusting off his suit. "I'm not hurt, but you gave me quite a scare. Don't do that again, Ms. Albyn...or may I finally call you Selene?" A mischievous smile replaced his previous smile.

"No. Just because I called you Augustine doesn't mean you can call me Selene." I turned on my heel, started walking, and stopped. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, perfectly alright. He turned me around, a handkerchief in his hand. "But you look like a waterfall got poured on you."

I glared at him, but accepted it to wipe away the tears. I murmured a "thank you" and stepped into the café, ignoring the many looks at us. I brushed off my dress, handing back the handkerchief.

"You can pick a table. What do you want?"

"Anything," I murmur. I wasn't in the mood. My hands were still shaking. I never wanted to be in that close contact...or almost hit by a car, for that matter. But the fact that he saved me was what left a pit in my stomach. I was in his debt - and yet I was rude to him. And he didn't even mind.

I walked to the table. I felt a hand on my shoulder before I could sit down. I turned, though ended up getting pulled into a hug. Some scent of cologne and bluebonnet let me know it was Augustine. My mind told me to push him off and slap him, but my heart told me to accept it. I was hurting, in aftershock fear, and confused. This time I didn't care if the other café-goers looked. This hug was important to me. I had someone to lean on. Someone to catch me everytime I fell. Even though I felt that way, I didn't know why.

"Are you okay?" I felt his hand place itself on the back of my head, gently pressing me further into his chest. I didn't mind for once. I nodded. "Are you sure? You seem pretty shaken..."

I nodded. "I'm okay now," I say in a slightly muffled voice. He let go with hesitation.

"Just know I'm here for you, okay?" He whispered it. It must've been something he didn't want the watchers to hear. He smiled. "I won't let you get hit. So, if you don't want to think of it as affection, think of me as someone who will pick you up when you fall." He leaned down a placed a kiss on my forehead. He gave the smile I saw so often - the full, bright smile that showed his teeth. "Now," he patted my shoulder, "whaddaya want?"

I couldn't help but laugh. I wiped away a few stray tears. "Idiot. I can't stand you."

"I know. But I could stand by you all day." He smiled. "Cider? Hot chocolate? Coffee?"

"I'm not a fan of warm drinks. An iced coffee will be fine."

He blinked. "Who the hell doesn't like hot drinks?"

I shot a glare at him. "Next time you try to hug me, I'm castrating you."

That made him go pale. "Understood, Ms. Albyn." He turned quickly to go order before I could carry out my promise. I sat down at the window. The shake in my hands had long since stopped. I glanced to my left. A teen with a romance novel in his hand was crying and glancing between Augustine and I. I rolled my eyes.

I didn't even like him.

Well...

I just might be a liar.

...

"We were there for way too long," I say.

"What makes you say that?" He glanced to me, curiosity in his eyes. "It only felt like fifteen minutes."

"Look at the sky, nutter."

He did so, seeing the small stars twinkling over head. "Hm. So you were right. We have been there for quite some time. But that's only because you were hungry."

"And you decided to annoy me."

"How?" He frowned in a childish way. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "I even paid for the cheque," he mumbled.

"And that was nice that you paid the cheque. But you didn't have to ask me silly questions."

"Asking if you are an A-cup is not a silly question."

"You're right. It's redundant and insulting."

He gave a surprised glance at me. "Redundant how?"

"It's obvious," I say with a hiss and glare. I could see he was contemplating on how to respond.

"Well, yes, you may be correct, but is that a bad thing?" He put a hand up as if ready to block whatever attack I had.

"Umm...yes, it is." What idiot was I talking to? Forget what I said about my possibility of having positive feelings for him. This British man may be a third year and coming on fourth, but his lack of intelligence was more than I could bear.

"How?" He mused. "Having a flat chest does not make you unattractive. In fact, I think it's good."

"Fetish of yours?" I growled.

"No, no!" He laughed. He glanced to the left of the quiet, dark street and saw a lonely cat wandering. He halted. He made a slight step, but then remembered what we were talking about. He caught up with me. "It's good because you won't get targeted by a rapist!" He smiled as if he just found the cure for cancer.

I stopped. He did the same a few steps ahead of me. "What?" He asked.

I clenched my fists. "You...unforgivable..." I stepped forward, anger bubbling like lava in the pit of my stomach. "Thoughtless...maniacal...rude...messed up...spineless...and confusing...IDIOT!" I kicked him hard where a man expects and least expects. He instantly fell down on the sidewalk, a loud yell of pain coming from him.

I raised my heel onto his stomach digging into his side. "I cannot BELIEVE the GALL! HOW...DARE...YOU!" I dug in, hearing him wince.

"Selene, please! Owww!"

"JUST because I am FLAT does NOT mean that I am NOT a target of RAPE!" I dug in even harder. I'm pretty sure he was crying now. I don't blame him - I was digging in as hard as I could with a sharp heel into his side, and he was hurting from his pride being kicked with said heels.

"O-Okay! I take it back, I take it back!"

I stopped. I stepped back. I was wrong - he wasn't crying, but he definitely had tears in his eyes. A pang of guilt went through my chest. I sighed inwardly. "Are you alright?"

"Alright? Oh yeah...just fine," he murmured with sarcasm. Minutes passed with me standing silent and him recovering. He slowly stood. "If I'm never able to have kids, I know who to blame."

"Won't matter. No one will want to conceive a child with you." I walked away as I heard him blanch.

"That was just mean!" I heard him catch up with me. He had a frown on his face. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I know. You can be mad at me if you'd like. Yell and scream, be my guest."

"I'm not going to do any of those things. I forgive you."

I glanced at him. "But I didn't even apologize."

He smiled. It was another of his charming smiles. I still couldn't pin why they were charming or why I felt a pull of attraction from him. His smile was nothing record-breaking. There were millions of men that had more attractive smiles.

He gave no answer to my statement right away. He seemed to study me. "You don't need to apologize. I know you feel bad." He looked like he lost his balance, but really he just wanted to hug me. He wrapped his arms around me, his warmth contradicting the chilly night air.

"Castrate," I reminded.

"Mmhmm." I could imagine him smiling. "Do you like me yet?" I opened my mouth to answer a flat out "no" and completely crush his moment. I remained silent. "That's alright," he said, pulling back, "I figured as much." He stepped back. "And I got out without the castration." He playfully winked at me, continuing to move on.

I kicked his calf from behind, receiving a wince from him. Then I heard humming. It was a classical piece, one of the famous ones that I never knew the names of. The sound of a running fountain made itself known to our right as the sidewalk opened to a small park with a large stone pavilion with a large lawn of stone sprawled around. A street lamp glowed with warm light. The humming reminded me of a movie.

"Where are we going?" I asked. He shrugged, glancing around the pavilion.

"Not sure, to be honest with you. I lost track of my plans as soon as I saw you this afternoon." He patted my head, earning a small glare from me.

"It's beautiful, though." It really was. Beyond the smooth stone and cobblestone paths laid a clean-cut lawn strewn with beautiful flowers just in bloom for the summer. Starry night hibiscus, hydrangea, dahlia - the petals created a beautiful myriad of colors made me look at each one of them for much longer than I would've normally.

"Beautiful flowers." He smiled. "You're much better when calm. I like seeing you have a small smile."

I glanced at him, then resumed looking at the flowers. "Do I smile? Hmm. Farah would say that's a shock." I gave a small smile at the thought of her gasping at such a tall tale.

"Like now. You have a wonderful smile. I've only seen it a few times, but to me, it seems to last a century."

"Trying to sound poetic now?" I said absentmindedly.

"No. But if I do, then it isn't a bad thing." He followed my gaze to the flowers. He didn't say anything, but resumed with humming the previous song.

"Why do you keep humming that song?" I asked, turning to face him.

"Because I love classical music. It's one of my favorite pieces."

"But it's one played at formal dances."

He had a teasing look in his eye. "Correct, Ms. Albyn." He continued to hum, tapping his fingers in time against his thigh. I ended up bobbing my head slightly to the music. Small sprinkles of rain started to hit the both of us. He didn't seem bothered by it. Neither was I.

The rain started coming down a bit quicker. "Would you like to depart?" He asked.

"No," I said before I could think. I glanced at him.

He smiled. "Good. Neither do I. Now..." A childishly impish grin cracked his face. He approached me, a mere handful of inches away from me. He pressed a hand to my back, pulling me a bit closer and taking my hand. "Farah seemed to tell me that you like dancing. And frankly, I'd love to dance."

"In the rain? I'll get sick again, idiot."

"And? That's the future. Can't you just care about now, silly Selene?"

My chest felt like it had a burning coal resting on my heart. It was interesting to hear him say my name. "Lead."

His smile brightened to contrast against the dreary wet night. The bare cobblestone illuminated by that warm yellow light shined over us as he hummed the song to dance along to and keep time.

People would think we were idiots if they walked past. For once I wouldn't care. I was laughing as if I were mad, and he was smiling as if his life was complete. The humming, rain, and the sound of our steps were drowned out by the laughter we both had whenever one of us slipped on the slick stone. It was more fun than formal. And that was enough to make me see him in the same way that street lamp saw him.

I spun, him holding my hand. I slipped slightly, my heel almost giving out. He made sure I didn't fall, moving his hand on my back to my side. He laughed. My heart felt lighter than it ever had been. Was this why Farah always talked about her boyfriend? Is this how amazing it was to actually love someone?

Before I knew it, I felt him drop me to almost touch the stone. The laughing was gone. There was no more humming. It was silent, the rain pouring down and both of our tired breaths the only sounds that broke that quiet. My heart fluttered in nervousness. He was only a few inches away from my face.

My hand around his neck tightened slightly as a foreign feeling invaded me. Something that felt like that alcohol that burned me, made me confident, made me lock lips with the man that held me here in the rain. The same scalding intoxication that matched how I felt now. I felt intoxicated by something brand new. I felt confident and I wanted to lock lips with him again. Though this time drunk on something other than a martini.

I could feel his hand tense on my back. He seemed to have the same reaction from being so close. I felt him lift me closer to him, and our lips touched. The locked feelings I had after rejecting him so many times were unlocked quicker than I could process. The butterflies in my stomach were released from their cage, the tectonic plates causing the earthquake in my body finally calming. The warmth from him spread through me to make me forget the rain. My mind was clear.

Then he parted. He lifted me up slowly, though didn't let go of me immediately. He cleared his throat. "Surprising. You didn't resist."

"Idiot." I smiled. "What do you think that means, Augustine?"

"I, er- you just called me Augustine-"

"Yes, yes I did, and my name is Selene...as you've been saying most of this evening."

He smiled. "Alright, Selene." His smile faltered to a sheepish grin. "Now...do you know the way back?"  
I kneed him in the groin. 


End file.
